#Modern aemond

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Heart Without a Home

Pairing: Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x f!reader, Modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader Warnings: Angst, emotional infidelity. Word count: ~9k

Summary: Her and Aegon have been an item for three years, and she couldn't be happier, though she has grown to dread special occasions spent with his overbearing family, particularly his moody younger brother. A Christmas week with the Targtowers gets to the root of all of the ill feeling.

Author's note: Day twelve of Smuffmas - home videos and voyeurism. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

The dull morning light of late December winter filtered through the curtains that they never remembered to close, the room silent save for the sounds of their quiet breathing. Aegon laid naked in her bed, sprawled on his front across her body, his head rested upon her bare chest with his eyes closed as she cradled him. Her fingertips gently massaged his scalp in soothing circles. She could feel from the oil within the roots that he was a few days past the need for his hair to be washed. Ordinarily she wouldn’t care; she loved it when Aegon’s fluffy platinum hair was a little on the dirtier side, it sat flatter to his head and looked less unruly, retaining the scent of peppercorn and bergamot that seemed to cling to him, that she had grown to love.

Yet she knew she would have to tell him to wash it, if only to save him from the disapproving comments from the woman from whom he had inherited his wild mop of curls, though hers were a vibrant auburn. It was Christmas Eve, and they were due to travel back to Aegon’s family home for three days; the shortest possible amount of time that his mother, Alicent, would allow and the longest that he would agree to. His younger siblings, Aemond and Helaena, usually always arrived the day before and stayed right through until New Year’s Day. That would have felt like a prison sentence to Aegon, so a compromise had been settled upon, and she intended to ensure it was as painless for him as it possibly could be. That included pre-empting his mother’s criticism of his hygiene and encouraging him to wash his hair.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” she urged softly, shifting slightly beneath him as she stroked her hands down his back, “you need to jump in the shower.”

“Mmmm…don’t want to,” he groused sleepily, clinging tighter to her, nuzzling further into her body.

She chuckled, attempting to push the dead weight of him from her but failed miserably. “We have to leave soon. If we aren’t there by lunchtime then we’ll never hear the end of it from your mum.”

“Oh, god forbid we aren’t there for her horrible smoked salmon and cream cheese bagels,” he bemoaned, rising slowly up on his elbows to look at her, his brow furrowed in an expression that she was sure was intended to convey his annoyance, but just appeared adorably tired and grumpy to her. God, how she loved that face.

“But,” she countered, tapping his nose lightly with her index finger, “you get to be warm under all that nice, hot water while muggins here has to coax your dopey mutt outside in the freezing cold and try to convince him to go for a piss. I’d say you’ve got the better end of the deal.”

Aegon smirked, rolling off of her and onto his own side of the bed, nearest the wall, where Sunfyre’s bed was. He peered over the edge, watching as the large golden retriever laid on his back, all four paws in the air, snoring quietly. “You know, if you and the hound wanted to head back for a few days, I’d be happy to stay here,” Aegon muttered quietly, giving Sunfyre’s paw a playful shake, which caused the dog’s eyes to open, his tail wagging enthusiastically as he saw who loomed above him.

She rolled her eyes, disentangling herself from the sheets and rising from the bed, beginning to rummage through her chest of drawers for something suitable to wear to take the dog outside in. “Very funny. Shower. Now.”

“Ugh, fine,” Aegon huffed, pulling himself from the mattress. He paused, still utterly naked as he stood in the doorway. “Will you at least have a bacon sandwich ready for me when I’m finished?”

She turned to him, a black hoodie clutched in her hands, and tilted her head, her tone one of mock confusion. “And spoil your appetite for your mum’s lovely smoked salmon?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he grinned before heading across the hallway and into the bathroom.

She laughed, turning her attention back to getting dressed. 

Aegon’s playfulness had been what had first drawn her to him when they had met three years prior. There was a shitty, little live music venue that she frequented most weekends – The Blue Pearl – the sort of place that’s dingy, smelly, with damp in the walls, and toilets that are always blocked, yet somehow the bar still feels justified in charging the better part of six pounds for a pint that’s more line cleaner than it is beer. The night they had met there had been a local indie band playing there, which had drawn a crowd of less than twenty people. Aegon had burst through the doors, already half drunk, with three friends in tow and offered to buy drinks for every person in the place. That was how she knew he was different – nobody could afford to do that – this was the sort of place where if you were going to buy a drink from the bar, it would likely be a coke that you’d then add the vodka to that you’d snuck in inside a hip flask. His thousand watt smile had charmed her and, at the end of the night, when he’d insisted that he couldn’t possibly leave without a kiss and her phone number, she had known she was in trouble.

In the beginning, things hadn’t been that serious. Aegon was a party boy, and she knew she wasn’t the only girl he was seeing. She didn’t mind, and was happy to keep things casual, because he was fun to spend time with. But as time had passed, and feelings developed, she found herself the sole recipient of his affection and, therefore, was pulled deeper into his world, able to understand the full extent of the wealth he was born into and the trauma that that brought with it. Aegon rebelled against the status of his family, choosing to live in a rented house share with his friends, Martyn, Leon and Ed. The few times she had visited she had been disgusted by the squalor the four men had allowed the house to fall into. Once, Leon had bought everyone in the house a Cadbury’s Creme Egg as an Easter gift and Martyn had accidentally sat on his and squashed it into the sofa cushions. She had been horrified to find it still there when she’d visited again a few weeks later. There was also the crusty, old assortment of boxers and socks that covered the surface of the white, plastic picnic table that stood in the back garden; Ed had laid them out there to dry one sunny summer’s day, having done a rare load of laundry, and then just never bothered to bring them back inside. They were still there by Halloween.

She had been pleased when Aegon and Sunfyre had begun spending more and more time at her place, not just because it meant she didn’t have to endure the hovel that they lived in, but because the two of them made her cosy, little flat feel like a home. Now, she and Aegon basically lived together in all but name. He only ever returned to his place when he needed clean clothes or to cool off if they had argued.

Aside from coming from old money and, therefore, leading a lifestyle that was so extravagant it made her uneasy, Aegon’s family maintained a dynamic that was strained at best and volatile at worst. Thankfully, Aegon kept his visits limited to special occasions only, meaning they only spent time with the family for birthdays and Christmases. His mother was an anxious woman and, though it was clear she loved her children dearly, she was often overbearing, not knowing how to properly express her care for them all, so it often came across as needless fussing and nagging. Their father had passed away, and Alicent had remarried to a man named Criston. He was harmless enough, though so broodingly quiet that she went out of her way to avoid being left alone with him. Otto, their grandfather and Alicent’s father, was a stern man who reserved the harshest of his criticisms for Aegon. He disapproved of his decision not to join the family’s investment banking firm, regularly reminding his grandson that there was no stability in the events marketing startup that he had founded with his father’s inheritance money. Aegon’s brother, Aemond, was indifferent to the point of being cold, he offered little in the way of conversation, only speaking when spoken to, and seemed content enough to keep to himself. Besides Aegon, Helaena was her favourite of all the family. She wasn’t particularly warm, but her nature was gentle and if you engaged with her regarding a topic she found interesting, she would animate in a way that made her features light up as she talked excitedly.

Their father had a daughter, Rhaenyra, from a previous marriage. Though she had never met her, and she was never present at any of the gatherings she attended, her influence hung over them all like a shadow, creating contention and bitter resentment. Aegon liked a drink, but she hated how paralytic he allowed himself to become when visiting his family. A means to cope with the ill feeling, a way to make the time pass quicker, perhaps both, she couldn’t tell, but seeing him in that state broke her heart. He was damaging himself, but also reaffirming his family’s opinion that he was a waste of space. She knew he was anything but.

They just had to get through tonight and then Christmas Day, and then they’d be driving back home again by Boxing Day lunchtime. And if there was nothing else to look forward to, at least she could console herself with the abundance of gifts. Alicent always ensured that each of them had a huge pile to open. Hers were always fairly generic; high end skincare, an expensive bottle of bubbly, artisanal chocolates and designer label accessories, but each year there was also one that was so personal, so thoughtful, that it made her feel guilty for ever hesitating to come in the first place. The first year she had spent Christmas with them all, she had received a platinum bracelet inlaid with glittering sapphires, and last year she had been given a first edition of her favourite book, signed by the author. As dysfunctional as the Targaryens were, they were insanely generous to those closest to them.

***

The tyres of her little Fiat 500 crunched over the gravel of the driveway leading up to the property,  the lengthy track was flanked by rows of perfectly sculpted hedges, beyond which sat acres of immaculately manicured lawn on either side. The drive from the gates at the roadside all the way to the house felt almost as long as the journey from her flat. 

“Got enough petrol to make it up the drive?” Aegon asked, casting her a smirk from where he sat in the passenger seat, fingers drumming restlessly upon his knees.

“You make that joke every time we visit,” she sighed, turning the steering wheel to maneuver the vehicle as the gravel track curved around the large, circular fountain that stood at the front of the massive house.

“And I’ll keep making it until it gets a laugh out of you,” he quipped, turning to unclip his seatbelt.

Ordinarily, his earnest intent to make her smile would have made her heart melt, however, this time the sentiment fell upon deaf ears. She stiffened as the familiar feeling of inadequacy settled upon her like a stone as the faded red brick building, encased in trailing ivy leaves, came into view. As she had predicted, everyone was there already; outside was Alicent’s sleek, forest green Mercedes AMG GT, with Otto’s Rolls Royce Phantom and Criston’s Porsche Cayenne parallel parked at either end. She drove around to where Helaena’s sky blue VW Beetle was situated, with Aemond’s Triumph chopper propped precariously behind it, and pulled to a stop in front. It was the least intimidating of all the vehicles present, so she felt more comfortable leaving her beaten up little car there.

She turned the engine off and, as though sensing her discomfort, Aegon’s hand grabbed hers, intercepting her as she reached to unfasten her seatbelt.

“It’s just three days and two nights,” he reassured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “we’ve got this.”

No sooner were they out of the car and unloading Sunfyre and the bags from their respective places on the back seat and the boot, than Alicent was hurrying from the house, her long auburn curls flowing behind her.

“We were starting to think you weren’t coming,” she said, kissing them both on their cheeks in greeting. She paused, looking intently at Aegon as her hands smoothed his hair, before calling over her shoulder to her husband, who was already making his way towards them. “Criston, fetch the bags!”

“Hello, you two,” he greeted softly, divesting them of their luggage, “safe journey?”

Sunfyre’s excited bark came in place of an answer. The large, golden dog bounded across the drive and into the house, wagging his tail.

“Oh god,” Alicent said, frowning in concern, “I don’t think Aemond has locked Vhagar away.”

“Right then, shall we?” Criston asked with a raise of his eyebrows, as Alicent chased after the golden retriever.

Once inside, she caught a quick glimpse of a fluffy, black cat racing up the grand, wooden staircase in the foyer, with Sunfyre in hot pursuit.

“I’ll take these to your room,” Criston gestured with their bags, following the same way the animals had gone.

“Shouldn’t we go and get the dog back?” she asked, turning to Aegon.

He shrugged. “He’ll come back when he’s ready. If Aemond didn’t want Vhagar used as a chew toy, then he’d have kept her shut away.”

Placing a hand at the small of her back, he moved her further into the house. No matter how many times she visited she would never stop being awed by the sheer opulence of it. The floors were polished hardwood, a dark mahogany hue that matched the panelling of the walls, which stopped three quarters of the way up to make way for dark bottle green paint and brass sconces. Alicent had decorated for Christmas, in an understated and tasteful manner as always. A garland wrapped around the bannister of the stairs, complete with crimson bows, and sprigs of holly had been hung from each fixture on the wall.

“I couldn’t find the cat, but I’m sure Aemond will sort her out,” Alicent announced, appearing from the kitchen with an open bottle of champagne in her hand, “we’re just through here.”

She ushered them through to the dining room. A large, oval table sat in the centre of the room, draped in a green and gold table cloth, with candles in the middle and places set for seven people. A spread of bagels, cream cheese and smoked salmon was plated and ready for serving. The head of the table nearest the fireplace set into the far wall had been left empty as always, a mark of respect for Viserys, the deceased patriarch of the family.

Otto was seated beside the empty space, with Helaena opposite him. Her large African grey parrot, Dreamfyre, perched upon her shoulder. Helaena was busy tearing pieces off of a bagel and offering them to the bird, watching intently as her large black beak pecked indelicately at them.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that at the table,” Alicent complained, placing the champagne into an ice bucket as Otto rose from his seat to greet his grandson with a clapped hand on the shoulder, and his girlfriend with a chaste kiss on the cheek, before taking his seat again, and gesturing for them to do the same. She sat next to Otto, with Aegon on her other side.

“I’m not keeping her in a cage,” Helaena protested, looking up at her mother with a slight frown as she continued to feed Dreamfyre from her upturned palm. “Vhagar and Sunfyre get to roam freely.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, taking her own chair at the opposite head of the table, next to Aegon. Her fingers automatically moved to straighten her cutlery. “Well, this is the last time any of you bring your wretched beasts with you.”

“You say that every time,” Aemond said quietly, slipping into the room with Criston trailing behind.

“Well, this time I mean it,” she said frustratedly, rubbing her temples.

Aemond sat between Helaena and Criston, which meant he was directly opposite her. It was as though the cloudiness of his left eye somehow intensified the stare of his right, and she squirmed beneath the intensity of his piercing blue gaze, suddenly grateful when Criston reached across to offer her a flute of champagne, giving her an excuse to look away.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if Aegon would keep that fucking mutt of his under control,” Aemond snapped, shooting an accusatory glance towards his brother.

“Enough,” Alicent commanded, forking a slice of salmon onto Criston’s empty plate, “have you and Helaena even bothered to greet either of them yet?”

“Hello,” Helaena offered with a soft smile, “when did you get here?”

“Literally just arrived,” she replied, giving a quiet thanks to Aegon as he passed the salmon plate to her.

“That’s nice,” Helaena nodded.

“Not the word I’d use,” Aegon muttered under his breath, earning himself a stern look from Alicent.

She served herself, before passing the plate to Otto. He paused as Helaena held her hand out, refusing his attempt to dish out food for her.

“I’m vegetarian, Grandad, remember?”

Otto bristled, eyes moving from the salmon and then back to his granddaughter. “Oh…right. Well, I’m sure your mother can find you some ham in the kitchen.”

“Can’t eat that either,” she said apologetically as he sighed in exasperation. She finally relieved him of the serving platter and passed it to Aemond, who promptly set it back in the centre of the table.

“Are you not eating?” Alicent asked, leaning forward to look at him with large, imploring eyes.

“Had a protein shake after my run,” he explained curtly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Right,” Alicent responded, her tone clipped with annoyance. She raised her glass in mock toast, “merry Christmas, everyone,” then took a swig before setting it heavily back upon the tabletop and beginning to spread cream cheese across a bagel in hurried, angry movements.

“Maybe you could set some salmon aside for Vhagar?” she suggested to Aemond with a slight smile, attempting to ease the tension.

“It’s smoked, it’s bad for her,” Aemond replied irritably, causing her to shrink once again under the weight of his scrutinising stare.

Looking to her side, dread formed like a stone in her stomach as she watched Aegon drain his flute of champagne – doubtless, the first of many. The rest of the meal passed in tense silence, until they were finally all excused. 

The rest of the evening was awkward and uncomfortable, as Criston and Alicent busied themselves in the kitchen with meal preparation for Christmas dinner the next day, Aemond disappeared upstairs to his room, and Otto engaged Helaena in a game of Jenga that she seemed to be more interested in encouraging Dreamfyre to perch upon than actually play. That just left her with Aegon, and ordinarily she would love that, except for the fact that he had polished off most of bottle of champagne to himself at lunch, and had since demolished a bottle of red wine, so was now barely lucid as he sat next to her on the plush sofa, leaving her to watch Home Alone on the plasma screen TV by herself.

As the evening wore on, and everyone in the house slowly started making their way to bed, she decided it would probably be a good idea to attempt to relocate Aegon to his own room, instead of leaving him on the sofa where he was currently sprawled with his mouth open. 

She leaned over him, gently shaking him. “Come on, Aeg, let’s go upstairs.”

He groaned softly in his sleep but didn’t move or wake up. She sighed in frustration, tucking her arm around him and attempting to lift him. His dead weight was too much for her and he flopped heavily back against the cushions after she’d only managed to raise his torso by a few inches.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she hissed in annoyance, raking a hand through her hair.

“Problem?” Aemond’s voice asked softly from behind her.

She turned, seeing Aemond holding an unlit cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other, clearly on his way through the living room to the French doors that opened out onto the patio of the back garden.

“He’s passed out and I can’t lift him,” she responded, her voice tired and resigned.

“Of course he is,” Aemond muttered with a roll of his eye. He pocketed his lighter and slipped his cigarette behind his ear, before moving towards the sofa. “Here, let me.”

She watched as Aemond crouched, tugged Aegon by his armpits into a seated position, and then hoisted him over his shoulder – his older brother's torso hung ragdoll down his back, while his legs draped across his front.

“Where do you want him?” he asked, his usually measured voice slightly strained under the weight of Aegon.

“Just in his room, need to put him to bed.”

She followed behind Aemond as he walked slowly through the living room, down the hallway and then up the stairs. It felt awkward to walk behind him in silence, but she supposed if there were ever a time for the pair of them to have their first proper conversation then it wouldn’t be when he was carrying her blind drunk boyfriend to bed.

Walking down the landing, he stopped at the third door on the left, gently pushed the door open with his foot before flicking the light on, then unceremoniously dumped Aegon onto the bed. His body bounced slightly as the mattress dipped and then righted with the force, but he remained fast asleep.

She looked around the room, seeing how neatly their bags had been left at the end of the bed. It was a shrine to Aegon’s adolescence; Blink 182 and glamour model posters were plastered across the walls, while lads’ mags and old beer mats were strewn across every surface. There was a framed photo that sat upon the bedside table, of a teenage Aegon grinning from ear to ear as he held Sunfyre as a puppy. Her gaze fell upon the dog bed in the corner, where he was sleeping.

“Shit, I forgot to take him outside for a piss before bed…”

“I’ll do it,” Aemond offered, leaning against the doorframe, “I was going out for a smoke anyway.”

“Thank you,” she smiled softly, turning back to face him as he whistled to get Sunfyre’s attention.

The dog stretched slowly out of his bed, his tail wagging lazily as he padded towards Aemond. “You know, you could use this as your get out of jail free card,” Aemond told her, his hand absentmindedly ruffling the dog’s ears.

“What do you mean?”

“Leave. While he’s still passed out. No one would blame you.”

She huffed in amusement, shaking her head. “I’m not ditching Aegon just because he’s had a bit too much to drink.”

Aemond eyed her appraisingly for a moment, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hm. Lucky Aegon.” He turned away, patting his thigh as he walked, calling out to Sunfyre, “come, hound!”

She laid there feeling restless and irritated for ten minutes; Aegon’s snores made it impossible to even entertain the idea of falling asleep. She climbed out of bed, pulling the curtain back a fraction as she watched Sunfyre amble around the lawn of the back garden, illuminated by the security floodlight, cocking his leg against Alicent’s rose bushes.

As her gaze fell upon the patio she made eye contact with Aemond, his face turned up towards the window as smoke rose in a delicate spiral from the lit end of the cigarette he held between two fingers. She hadn’t expected him to be watching her and the sight made her heart skip a beat, a shocked gasp escaping her as she let go of the curtain, allowing it to fall closed again.

“Fucking hell,” she whispered to herself as she climbed back into bed, waiting for her pulse to stop racing in panic, “I hate it here.”

***

“Are there any coconut ones?” Helaena asked, kneeling on the carpet in front of where Aegon sat on the sofa, pawing through a tin of Quality Street.

“Disgusting choice, and all yours,” he responded, plucking out a few of the blue foil wrapped chocolates and dropping them into her upturned palms.

Helaena smiled happily, turning away and crossing her legs as she began to unwrap one of them.

It was Christmas morning, and Aegon had woken up surprisingly early and blissfully hangover free. She attributed it to how early in the evening he had passed out, though she didn’t feel so fresh herself, having been kept awake half the night by his snoring and her own anxiety over her encounter with Aemond.

He had said nothing to her that morning, simply sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, sipping coffee and reading the news on his iPad. Aegon was not so serene, he had dragged Helaena out of bed and insisted she show him where their mother had hidden the Christmas chocolates.

“Oh, horrible children!” Alicent scolded, knotting her dressing gown at the waist as she entered the lounge and caught sight of the half empty tin of sweets. “What about breakfast?”

“It’s alright, Mum, I’ve got that covered. Here,” he plucked a Green Triangle from the container and carelessly sent it sailing towards her.

Criston stepped from behind her, reaching up and plucking it from the air before it could make contact with her temple.

“Unbelievable,” Alicent said in annoyance, throwing up her hands in resignation, “I don’t know why I bother.”

She looked guiltily at the pile of empty wrappers in her lap, then at Aegon, as Alicent stomped away with Criston in tow. “Maybe we should put them away.”

“Why would she buy them if she didn’t want us to eat them?” he argued, unwrapping a caramel swirl. “They aren’t just there for us to admire.”

“You aren’t supposed to sit and eat them all to yourself either, you greedy little shit,” Otto glowered, stepping into the doorway.

“Not to worry, grandad,” Aegon grinned, “I’ve got a toffee penny here with your name on it.”

“If you even think about throwing a chocolate at me, my boy, I will make sure you live to regret it.”

Helaena whipped around, wide eyed, and snatched the tin from Aegon, placing it on the carpet before slamming the lid back on. “We shouldn’t have these out if they’re going to upset people.”

“Good,” Otto conceded with a nod, “I trust the three of you plan on changing out of your pyjamas at some point today?”

“Would it be okay if I jumped in the shower?” she asked sheepishly, embarrassed to ask as she tried to ball up the sweet wrappers in her lap as discreetly as possible.

“There are four bathrooms in the house, dear, you don’t need to ask,” Otto responded with a curt nod, before ducking back out of the room.

She raked her hands through her hair, her mind feeling foggy with fatigue and her insides churning with a combination of too much early morning chocolate and dense unease. Aegon gripped her arm gently as she rose from the sofa, and she paused, turning to look at him.

“You’re in a mood.”

It was a statement, not a question. Aegon knew her too well, of course she was, but what was she supposed to say?

You got so fucking drunk last night that you passed out and basically left me alone on Christmas Eve, then kept me awake all night with your snoring.

Despite knowing what a tense situation this is, you’re not making it any better for yourself or anyone else by deliberately going out of your way to be antagonistic.

She said neither of those things. Now wasn’t the time to reprimand him or start an unnecessary argument; there’d be enough of those today. 

“Just tired, missing our bed,” she replied quietly, offering him a small smile of reassurance.

“Course you are,” he grinned, releasing her arm with a wink, “I’ll make sure to tire you out properly tonight.”

Helaena made a noise of disgust, clapping her hands over her ears, and she used that as her excuse to leave the living room, and head upstairs to one of the bathrooms.

Just today to get through, then we can go home tomorrow, she thought as she sat on the edge of Aegon’s bed, wrapped in a towel, skin still damp from the shower.

She had left the door ajar, and as it creaked open she expected to see Aegon walk through. She jumped slightly as Aemond appeared in the doorway instead.

His seeing eye widened momentarily, before he cast his gaze towards his feet. “Fuck, sorry, door wasn’t closed, so I thought–”

“Aegon’s downstairs, if you’re looking for him,” she interrupted, not wanting to suffer through any further awkward apologies.

“I was looking for you, actually,” he replied, his eye darting quickly away again as it landed upon her once more. “Mum wants to do presents, and I was coming upstairs to grab this anyway—” he lifted his silver camcorder in explanation, “so she asked me to get you.”

She was grateful that they had both seemingly reached a silent agreement not to address the accidental eye contact through the window from the night before – the more she thought about it, the more she realised there wasn’t really anything to talk about anyway.

“Be there in a minute,” she said.

He nodded, stepping out of the room and closing the door fully behind him.

Every time she visited, Aemond had his video camera out at some point. Alicent had gushed to her once about all of the videos he had captured over the years of special occasions, how talented he was at framing shots perfectly and then editing the footage into something that captured the mood of those precious memories. In the three years she had been a part of their lives, she had seen him filming plenty of times but never actually gotten to see the finished product.

Once dressed and back downstairs, everyone was already gathered in the living room, It’s a Wonderful Life playing quietly on the TV. Otto sat in the armchair, while Helaena sat crossed legged at his feet, with Dreamfyre perched upon her shoulder. On the sofa on one side of the coffee table, Criston and Aemond sat at opposite ends, Criston slowly sipping a coffee while Aemond fiddled with his camcorder. Aegon reclined with his feet up, stretched out across the sofa on the other side, a hand lolling down onto the floor, absentmindedly stroking Sunfyre. Alicent knelt beside the huge Norwegian fir tree in the far corner of the room, its red and gold ornaments twinkling as she sorted gifts into piles.

She patted Aegon’s legs gently, and he lifted them enough for her to sit before resting them across her lap.

“Aegon…” she began, quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Mmm?” he jutted his chin upwards slightly, regarding her with a gentle raise of his eyebrows.

“You know Aemond’s video camera?” she ventured, plucking invisible fluff from the leg of his jogging bottoms.

“What about it?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Why don’t we ever see the videos he makes?”

“We do.”

She shook her head, keeping her tone hushed. “I never have.”

Aegon shrugged dismissively. “I guess not, but why does it matter? We don’t need to watch them, we were there, we know what happened.”

It wasn’t enough to sate her curiosity, but before she had the opportunity to press the issue further, Alicent ushered them over to the tree to grab their respective gifts.

Her and Aegon had exchanged presents at her flat the day before Christmas Eve, a means to preserve a piece of the festive period that was just for them, but also to ensure that the significance of their gifts for each other weren’t lost in the overwhelming abundance that his mother delivered on Christmas morning.

It was strange to her that everyone tore into their pile at the same time, rather than taking turns so everyone could see what everyone else had gotten, but as she watched Alicent perching on the arm of the sofa next to Criston, looking on with a soft smile as her children unwrapped their presents, she could understand why it was this way. Amidst the buzz of the sounds of tearing paper and gushing thank yous, it was the closest she had ever seen the family come to genuine happiness.

Alicent had gone way overboard for her as usual. She unwrapped Chanel No.5 perfume, a cashmere jumper, an Elemis skincare gift set and a pair of white gold hoop earrings. It was a large, flat present that piqued her curiosity the most though; it was heavy and solid, and as she pulled the wrapping paper away it took a moment for her to understand properly what it was; a map of the exact layout of the constellations in the sky on the day of her birth. Her lips parted slightly as she stared at it in awe, trailing her fingertips down the coolness of its smooth surface. Upon closer inspection, she could see that it was made of marble; a thin indigo slab which represented the night sky, with gold inlay mapping out the constellations. Tiny diamonds sparkled at each appropriate juncture, serving as the stars. Her breath caught in her throat, tears welling in her eyes at the thoughtful gesture.

It felt almost too personal, too intimate to be a gift from her boyfriend’s mother, and she wondered if perhaps Aegon had snuck another gift here for her. She patted at his leg gently, discreetly trying to get his attention as he was busy tugging the cap off a bottle of aftershave and giving it a sniff.

She turned the plaque towards him, tilting her head in silent question, but he simply shrugged, his bottom lip protruding slightly as he slightly shook his head to feign ignorance before turning his attention back to his own gifts.

“Wow…thank you, Alicent.” she said, looking across the room to where Alicent was sitting, watching as Helaena encouraged Dreamfyre to tear open a present with her beak.

“Oh, you’re welcome, love,” she replied, glancing up quickly with a bright smile, “I’m glad you like them.” Her attention then immediately went back to Helaena.

At Alicent’s quick dismissal, she looked around the room, everyone was preoccupied with their gifts or someone else’s, except for Aemond, who was filming – she hadn’t even noticed him start.

As the morning bled into early afternoon, Otto dozed in the armchair, while Helaena helped Criston and Alicent to cook Christmas lunch. The majority of her gifts had been put away upstairs, except for the plaque. She sat admiring it, unable to believe how beautiful it was, while Aegon sprawled out on the sofa, drinking Buck’s Fizz, with Sunfyre snoozing on his legs.

“I’m bored,” Aegon complained, causing her to look up from where she was sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Put something on the TV then.”

He wrinkled his nose, clearly unhappy with the suggestion. “There’s not anything good on. I think Aemond brought his Switch, we could play Mario Kart?”

“Guess you’ll have to ask him.”

“He’s always ages when he’s having a fag, just go and grab it from his room, he won’t mind.”

“You go and get it,” she retorted defensively, horrified by the idea as her voice raised an octave, “I’m not letting myself into your brother’s room and taking his belongings.”

“But look how sleepy Sunfyre is,” Aegon said, pouting his lip, “would you really be so cruel and make him move?”

“You’re so fucking lazy!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Aegon laughed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Seriously, Aemond won’t care. But if he comes back in before you’re back down here, I’ll tell him what you’re doing, so he knows it was my idea. Sound good?”

She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t drop it until he got his way. She didn’t have the patience to listen to him pester her until Aemond came back inside, so she rose to her feet, placing her plaque on the coffee table as she stood. “So fucking lazy,” she muttered with a shake of her head as she left the room.

Nerves fluttered in her stomach as she climbed the stairs. She’d never been in Aemond’s bedroom before – she supposed it wasn’t really his room anymore, just the place he slept when he visited, but it was still his space and the idea of intruding upon it made her incredibly uncomfortable.

She paused as she reached his door, her hand hovering over the door handle, before drawing in a steadying breath and pushing it open.

The space was more orderly than Aegon’s was. One wall was simply book shelves, filled with rows and rows of hardbacks, there was a Deftones and a Tool poster stuck neatly upon the other walls, and Aemond’s computer desk and chair were tucked away in the far corner. At the centre of the room was Aemond’s neatly made bed. Vhagar lay curled up in the middle of the duvet. The fluffy black cat’s amber eyes cracked open to look at her inquisitively as she stood looking around the room, trying to figure out where Aemond would have put his Switch.

Bloody Aegon, she thought, until her eyes fell back upon the computer desk. Aemond’s camcorder sat upon the desktop, plugged into his open laptop. The case for his Switch lay next to it.

She walked over to the desk, fully intending to simply grab the Switch and then go straight back downstairs, but as she moved closer, the sight of her own face on the laptop screen captured her attention. It was a thumbnail of the video that Aemond had taken that morning within an open folder of multiple video files. She knew she shouldn’t snoop, it wasn’t her business, but seeing such a close up shot of herself made the urge to click irresistible.

The video started with a slow pan around the room, Alicent watching on as everyone else opened gifts. It lingered on Aegon for a moment, zooming in as he unknowingly leaned his face back at an unflattering angle, creating a double chin – she laughed at seeing this – then the shot moved to her, zooming out to capture her unwrapping the plaque, then zooming back in on her face, capturing her eyes welling up and the touched smile that tugged at her lips. The shot remained on her until the video eventually cut to black.

Her brow furrowed, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment stirring within her. Why was nearly the entire video of her? If Aemond was intending to create videos of happy family memories, then why focus solely on his brother’s girlfriend and not the people he was actually related to?

Unable to stop herself, she closed out of the video and clicked onto the next. This was one from back in the late summer, when Alicent had hosted a barbecue for Criston’s birthday. The camera panned around the back garden, with a brief zoom in of the meat sizzling on the grill, before zooming out again. When the camera fell upon her, it lingered, a full body shot at first, before gradually moving in upon her face, catching each sip of her drink, every time she touched her hair, or laughed.

“You looked beautiful that day.”

“FUCK!” she yelped, jumping as she turned wide eyed with fright to see Aemond standing behind her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said calmly, “but you are in my room after all.”

She watched in disbelief at how unbothered he was as he moved to sit on the bed, ruffling a hand through Vhagar’s fur. The cat chirruped happily, the noise an obscenely cute contrast to the clawing dread in the pit of her stomach and the wild pounding of her heart against her ribcage. An acrid taste filled her mouth, sour and unpleasant, as she struggled to get the words out, wanting to understand why he’d been filming her.

“What the fuck?!” was all she was able to choke out.

“It’s not anything perverted, don’t worry,” he reassured her.

That was what worried her. She knew Aemond wasn’t being a creep, the videos hadn’t lingered on her breasts or anywhere that wasn’t her face. It would be easy to deal with, easier to shrug off if she could just explain it away as Aegon’s younger brother being a pervert, but this seemed like something deeper than that, and that scared her. 

“Are…are they all like that?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling.

“All the ones since I met you, yeah,” he admitted.

“Jesus christ,” she whispered, putting her head in her hands. A dozen different questions raced through her mind, none of them she was certain she wanted the honest answer to. She wanted to be out of this room, away from Aemond, to forget what she’d seen and everything he’d told her.

“I know how it must seem, but–”

“I don’t care how it seems, I don’t want to hear it,” she cried, grabbing the Switch case and bolting from his room. She took the stairs two at a time, her face burning hot and a lump forming rapidly in her throat.

Alicent and Criston had made a tremendous effort for Christmas lunch; an enormous turkey sat in the centre of the dining table, alongside a nut roast for Helaena, with side dishes of roasted chestnuts, potatoes, brussels sprouts, stuffing, carrots, gravy and cranberry sauce all in abundance.

Despite how delicious it all looked, she couldn’t begin to fathom eating any of it. Her stomach churned, she felt shaky and nauseated, her mind unable to focus on anything besides the videos she’d seen on Aemond’s laptop. The calmness of his reaction had unnerved her. Regardless of her lack of appetite, she kept her focus fixed upon her plate, determined not to look up and see him as he sat opposite her. She poked aimlessly at a carrot, pushing it around on her plate.

“You okay?” Aegon whispered, leaning across to her, “You’ve not eaten anything.”

“Oh no, do you not like the food?” Alicent asked with concern, having overheard.

She raised her head, immediately feeling guilty as she saw her mother in law’s brow furrowed in worry. The last thing she wanted to do was insult her cooking when she’d gone to all this effort.

“It’s lovely,” she said, forcing a polite smile, “just feeling a bit hot. I might pop out for some fresh air before I finish my plate.”

“I can make you something else, if you’d prefer?” Alicent offered.

She hated the silence that had fallen around the table, hated the eyes she could feel upon her.

“Really, this is delicious,” she reassured, slowly rising from her seat, “just need some air.”

She gently brushed off Aegon’s hand as he reached for her, offering him a tight smile as he looked up at her with a puzzled look upon his face. “Back in a sec.”

The cold air against her skin felt like the prick of a thousand tiny needles as she stepped outside, wrapping her arms around herself. She huffed out a shaky breath, sending a plume of white billowing outwards in front of her. She tried to keep her focus on the rose bushes that framed the perimeter of the lawn, a means to ground herself and draw her focus elsewhere, to anything but Aemond. She wanted to go home. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt, of the fact that she had unearthed something that now couldn’t be undone.

Hearing the French doors to the patio open and then close gently from behind her, she sighed, her shoulders sagging as she rolled her eyes, not bothering to turn around. “Honestly, I’m fine, Aegon, just go back inside.”

“It’s not Aegon, it’s me.”

She froze, the sound of Aemond’s voice made her heart lurch, but her initial shock quickly morphed into anger and she whipped around to face him. She watched as he cupped his hand around his lighter, the brief flicker of the flame casting an orange glow over his sharp features as he lit his cigarette.

“You shouldn’t have followed me out here.”

He narrowed his eye, observing her silently as he blew a tight line of smoke out through pursed lips. “Bold of you to assume that. I always have a cigarette after I’ve eaten.”

“If Aegon catches us–”

“If Aegon catches us, then what? What is there to tell him?”

“I don’t know, but something about this feels wrong.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong, so there’s nothing to tell him.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ve managed to say nothing for three years,” he replied with a shrug, taking another pull on his cigarette.

“Christ, Aemond, what does that even mean?!” she demanded, losing all patience, as she threw her hands up in irritation.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” he admitted, averting his gaze and exhaling smoke slowly through his nose.

“If it concerns me then I have a right to.” She folded her arms across her chest, staring at him defiantly.

His head snapped up, nostrils flaring as he advanced upon her, causing her to take a step back. “You want to know? Fine. Being around you is fucking torturous.”

“I—I’m sorry…” she stammered, as her heart hammered wildly in her chest, tendrils of fear creeping along her spine.

“No, I am,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “because I’m so irrevocably, incomprehensibly, driven to the brink of insanity, in love with you that every moment I’m with you I spend cursing my luck that Aegon met you first.”

Her breath hitched, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as her lips parted in shock. She stared at him in wide eyed disbelief, as he gazed back in saddened resignation, his cigarette burning to ash between his fingers.

“You can’t…we can’t,” she stammered, “I’m with Aegon, I can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to,” he whispered sadly.

“So now what?”she asked, her voice trembling as a tear slipped down her cheek.

“You go back inside,” he replied, reaching up with his free hand to wipe her tear away with the pad of his thumb. The gentle touch made her skin tingle. “And you say nothing, and I continue to love you from afar, just as it’s always been.”

Her feet carried her on autopilot, she felt numb, but paused in the living room to wipe her eyes and compose herself before heading back to the dining room. She grabbed for her wine glass as she took her seat once more, downing its contents in a single gulp and relishing in the way the burn in her throat and chest gave her something else to focus on.

Aegon grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close. “Glad someone’s found their Christmas spirit!”

God, how she wished that were true.

She felt like a spectator in her own body for the rest of the day, going through the motions but not really participating, simply acting on autopilot. She barely registered the arguments over post Christmas lunch board games, for once grateful that Aegon was so plastered he hadn’t noticed how far into herself she’d retreated. She kept stealing glances at Aemond, unable to believe his confession to her in the garden earlier. He was never someone she would ever have considered as a romantic prospect, because he was just so closed off. Now she found herself studying the way his snowy hair fell across his forehead, the sharp angles of his side profile, the gentle curve of his lips. She hated herself for it, as though on some level she was being unfaithful, even though she hadn’t asked for any of this.

Not even Aegon’s snoring was enough to penetrate through her wall of thought as she lay in bed with him that night. Aemond didn’t know her, not really, so he couldn’t love her. It was a silly crush, he’d get over it, and everything would be back to normal the next time they descended upon Alicent’s house for a visit. She kept the reassurance on a loop in her mind, allowing it to lull her into an uneasy sleep.

She didn’t think she had ever been so glad to pack a bag the following morning, as her and Aegon readied themselves to leave. She couldn’t wait to see the back of this place, to forget about all of this and just get back to the cosy life that she and Aegon shared together.

“Gonna have one last hurrah in mum’s rain shower,” Aegon told her, grabbing a pair of socks from his bag and giving them a sniff to make sure they were clean, “see how much of a dent I can put in the hot water before we set off.”

“Alright, but don’t be too long, I wanna get on the road soon.”

“You’re even more desperate to leave than I am,” he said, studying her carefully, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she reassured him, stepping towards him and winding her arms around his neck, “just keen to get the drive over with, you know how much I hate it.”

He smiled, giving her a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. “How could you hate it with me as your passenger princess? I’ll think up a playlist while I’m showering.”

She was zipping her bag up, looking around Aegon’s bedroom to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, when there was a gentle knock on the partially open door.

“Come in,” she uttered distractedly, grabbing Sunfyre’s tennis ball from under the bed.

She righted herself, stiffening when she saw it was Aemond. He hovered in the doorway, his posture one of awkward uncertainty as he held the plaque she’d unwrapped the day before in his hands. “You left this on the coffee table downstairs. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget it.”

“Oh, right…thanks,” she said quietly, taking it from him and wrapping it in a jumper before placing it in one of the bags.

“I just wanted to–”

“Listen, I–”

Both of them smiled coyly, before Aemond gestured towards her. “You go.”

She gave a nod, stepping closer to him. “Look, I just wanted to apologise for overreacting yesterday. It’s just a silly crush, and I’m sure with time it’ll fade.”

“Don’t do that,” he said with a frown.

“Do what?”

“Diminish my feelings.”

“I’m not, but you don’t even know me…”

“Did you like my gift?”

“What?”

“The plaque, you seemed quite choked up by it yesterday. And the book the year before that, and the bracelet the year before that.”

“Those were all from you?” she asked, her chest suddenly feeling too tight as her stomach churned with shock and unease.

“Yes, so I’d say I know you rather well. What did Aegon get you?”

“Headphones.”

Aemond cocked an eyebrow. “Very thoughtful.”

“Don’t do that,” she said, mirroring his stern tone from earlier.

He sighed. “Sorry, I’m not trying to mess things up for you guys.”

“Then what are you trying to do?”

“I just want you to be happy, and if it’s Aegon that makes you happy then I’m content with that. I know my love is wasted, but if you’ll allow it, let’s just carry on as we have been. It seems to have worked for us so far.”

She softened at his words, and he reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She found herself squeezing back, committing to memory how his palm sculpted to her own, his fingers covering hers.

“In another lifetime,” she whispered sadly, drawing back.

“In another lifetime we’d be fucking great together,” he smirked, “until next time.”

She watched as he disappeared from the room, fighting the urge to cry, knowing that Aegon would be out of the shower any minute.

As she settled into the driver’s seat, the car packed up and goodbyes exchanged, Aegon turned to her. “Told you we’d got it,” he said with a proud smile.

Yet as his hand reached for hers, squeezing it in reassurance, she could only think of how different it felt to Aemond’s.

Read on AO3

More Aemond fics

[ficsiveread68]

He is a poet too? Haha I love him so much. If someone talked to me that way?

Glass Cuts Deepest (7)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, smut, masturbation, kissing, fluff, angst, trauma, mention of rape, indecent student-teacher relationship ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She wasn't sure she had ever seen anyone in her life as embarrassed, shocked and ashamed of their behaviour as her professor had been when they and Cregan had breakfast together in the hotel restaurant.

Cregan talked with vivid interest about how he imagined the end result of her work, and she nodded with a smile pretending to listen to him − she and her professor threw each other quick glances once in a while and immediately turning their faces away.

She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened during the night, what he had confessed to her.

His warm, wet lips on her neck.

And then his whisper.

Mine.

She felt throbbing between her thighs again, the immense discomfort caused by a tension that she hadn't had time to get rid of on her own.

His declaration made her realise that she was attracted to him too, that it was not without reason that she felt her hands trembling and her heart pounding in his presence.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that before he had left in the morning and returned to his room through the balcony he had asked her not to tell anyone about it.

He had been horrified at the thought that it might have come out and she was not at all surprised at him.

Nevertheless, he had also made it clear that what he had done and said was not just out of a need to satisfy his physical urges, but something more, and that although he, like her, could not name it, they had agreed to talk about it again in the evening in her room when they had cooled down a little.

It was for this reason that she tried with all her might to act as if nothing had happened, talking lightly only to Cregan.

The three of them drove to the church after breakfast to check on the progress of the work, and she was delighted to see that the first quarters in the left-hand window with the figures of the apostles were already installed.

It looked amazing, better than she had imagined, and she thought with a fast-beating heart that she couldn't wait to see the final result tomorrow. They chatted for a while to the technicians who said everything was going smoothly and the measurements matched.

The bishop himself came to meet them − he was a rather plump man with glasses, closer to her grandfather's age than her father's, signet rings glittering on his fingers, a large, richly decorated gold cross on his chest. When he saw her he laughed good-naturedly.

"Ah, so this is the famous female student who broke into the male convent!" He burst out laughing under his breath and, to her surprise, extended his hand to her, so she shook it; he then made the same gesture to her professor and Cregan.

Father Bishop sighed heavily, placing his hands on his broad sides, watching the progress of the work with satisfaction.

"It already looks very good. Even better than on the design. I'm looking forward to the final result. So, Professor, are you proud of your student?" He asked him tauntingly − she saw Professor Targaryen cast her a quick, horrified look, swallowing hard.

She knew what he was thinking of, she knew he was imagining how he had brushed his lips against the skin of her neck a few hours earlier, listening to her sighs of pleasure.

"Yes. I am." He replied matter-of-factly, glancing at him quickly.

Father Bishop raised his eyebrows, nodding approvingly, then began to talk to him and Cregan about another project they were working on for him.

She could feel her heart pounding hard − she had a feeling that her whole body felt strangely warm, she couldn't stop the gentle smile that pushed at her lips.

Despite what she had feared, she felt happy.

His approach, his respect that she hadn't expected from him, his calmness and tenderness made her want to give a chance to this feeling that fluttered in her stomach like a butterfly.

She wanted to see what would happen next.

However, these thoughts were followed by another one, which crushed her like a big stone.

I was raped by a woman when I was 16.

She swallowed with difficulty, feeling a tightening in her stomach as she looked at her fingers, playing with them in a nervous gesture.

He trusted her, probably fell in love with her, and she knew he didn't expect her to be with him out of compassion. She was terrified of the ease with which she could hurt him, make him close himself off again.

What also frightened her was how strong desire he had awakened in her, that she had been feeling the tension all day and wasn't sure she would have time to relieve herself before he came to her in the evening.

She thought that just as men hold back and make an effort for their girlfriends who say they are not ready yet, that they want to wait, she needed to make an effort too, to give him space and not talk about it, not give him the feeling that he should hurry up, that she was counting down the time until he met her needs.

He needed to feel that he meant something more to her than sex and that thought filled her with what kind of tenderness.

She wanted to mean something more to him too.

This thought seemed to comfort her and she decided that she would hold out for him and let him explore touch at the pace he needed.

She knew what a big deal what had happened between them had been for him, she could see it in his gaze when he glanced nervously over his shoulder at her, stroking his chin involuntarily.

He himself was in shock.

She smiled at him lightly, and he swallowed hard before turning away quickly, pale as if he was about to faint.

She lowered her gaze, amused, thinking that they were acting like a couple of teenagers in high school who had no idea what they were doing, so they just held hands and gave each other innocent kisses.

For some reason it made her want him even more.

She knew he was her professor, she knew it was immoral, but she couldn't help herself.

She was attracted to him as a person and as a men, she craved his attention, wanted to know who he was inside.

What he had shown her was proof to her that his aggression was merely a defensive measure, a way in which he could cut himself off from the world that frightened him so much.

Father Bishop invited them to his curia for tea and cakes.

She had the impression that she was just attending some aristocratic, elevated afternoon tea. Dressed as usual in a black t-shirt tucked into black high-waisted trousers, she felt that, like her professor and Cregan, also dressed all in black, she did not fit in with this palatial interior full of gold and glamour.

She looked at Cregan with amusement and he winked at her in understanding. She turned away from him after a moment with a smile and met her professor's frustrated gaze directed at her.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that he might have considered that she was trying to play both sides.

She shuddered when she heard Father Bishop's voice addressed in her direction.

"And how do you find working under Professor Targaryen? Is he treating you well?" He sneered, giggling under his breath.

She looked at her professor and saw that he had rubbed the tip of his nose with his hand, his lips twitched in concern, he was not looking at her.

He was afraid of what she would answer.

She decided she would tell the truth.

"Professor Targaryen is very strict, but he can also appreciate hard work. He treats each of his students equally and has clear rules that he guards about which he himself follows. I am learning a lot thanks to him and I am grateful to him for giving me the chance." She said warmly, smiling sincerely, Cregan nodded his head acknowledging that this was a very nice and kind answer.

She glanced at her teacher and saw that he was looking at her with some kind of uncertainty, his lips tightened, in his gaze some sort of warmth and longing.

He wanted to touch her.

She could see it in the way he rubbed his fingers against each other, the way his chest rose and fell restlessly, and she felt that pleasant yet painful sensation between her thighs again, had the feeling that she had been wet because of him all day and it was getting increasingly worse.

She looked away from him and grunted quietly, ashamed of her thoughts and what was happening to her. Father Bishop nodded his head in amazement, as if he had not expected such a warm response from her.

"What can I say, tomorrow we will all see the final result of your project and I am looking forward to it myself." He said lightly and clapped his hands contentedly.

They drove back to the hotel in silence, but she knew everyone was in a good moods. She saw her professor glancing at her in the mirror, surely already thinking the same thing as she was.

They agreed to give themselves a few hours to shower and to get changed after a long day.

She took advantage of this to lie on the bed on her stomach as soon as she returned and unzipped her trousers, seeking relief with her hand after a day full of tension, moaning into her pillow, feeling that her whole womanhood was swollen, hot and wet.

With sure, circular motions of her fingers around her clit, imagining his lips on her neck while he took her from behind, whispering as he did then how good and beautiful she was she came with a sigh of relief, feeling the wonderful throbbing and tickling of pleasure spreading throughout her body in long waves.

She came down slowly from her peak, feeling suddenly lighter, and lay like that for a while in silence. After a few minutes, she got up lazily and took a quick shower, after which she dried her hair and waited for him, sitting in the same pyjamas as the day before, browsing news portals on her phone.

She shuddered when she heard a quiet knock on her window and rose with her heart beating hard, running to her balcony door. She opened it and saw to her surprise that he was dressed in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

He wanted to sleep in her room again.

She swallowed loudly at the thought, excited and ashamed at the same time and smiled at him, letting him in, her room lit only by the night lamp standing on a small table next to her bed.

She sat down on her bedding and saw that he had stopped in the middle of the room, looking somewhere to the side, tense, breathing unevenly, rubbing his fingers against each other again in a nervous gesture.

He didn't know what he should do, feeling embarrassed about what he wanted, what he had come for.

"It's okay. Sit down." She said softly, patting a spot on the bed a safe distance away.

He swallowed loudly and hummed under his breath, sitting down next to her, placing his hands on his stomach, looking ahead, biting his lower lip in thought, clearly unable to look at her.

"If you want, I'll leave." He said suddenly in a serious, matter-of-fact voice, looking somewhere to the side with furrowed brows. She blinked, surprised, feeling a squeeze in her heart.

"I don't want to. Even though I know it reflects badly on me." She said the last sentence uncertainly, lowering her gaze, fiddling with the fabric of the duvet she was sitting on.

She felt him glance at her, surprised by her words − he chuckled helplessly, scratching his cheek with his thumb.

"On you? I'm the one pushing myself into my own student's bed." He said with regret and pain. She knew it was hard for him with how he felt, that he knew deep down that it was wrong.

She pressed her lips together, sighing quietly, lowering her gaze, not knowing how to comfort him herself.

"I don't take it that way. I mean…what I said about you today is true. I don't think that – unlike other professors – you would treat me better or more kindly than my colleagues – and I don't want that either." She said softly, running her fingers over the fabric of the quilt lying in front of her.

She saw that he was looking at her hand out of the corner of his eye, sitting silently like a statue, the warm light of the night-lamp enveloping his face.

He lowered his gaze and hummed quietly, as if agreeing with her assumptions.

She knew that the last thing he wanted was to take advantage of her sexually.

That his need for closeness and touch came from something completely different.

She let the air out through her nose with a soft puff and held out her hand to him. She saw him glance at her out of the corner of his eye, tense, and swallow loudly, hesitating inside.

He twitched uncertainly and then squatted a little closer to her, still sitting up as he took her hand in his, stroking it with his thumb.

They played with each other's fingers in subtle, innocent gestures, brushing the skin of each other's palms − he watched this with a thoughtful, blank look.

She knew he wanted to say something and didn't know how to put it into words.

He clenched his jaw and parted his lips with wet click.

"You and Cregan. What is that about?" He asked with some hint of coldness and uncertainty, his voice quivering as he phrased his question, as if he was simultaneously ashamed and afraid of what he would hear.

She swallowed loudly, looking at him in pain, remembering his disgruntled gaze from afar every time she spoke to Stark, when they laughed and discussed together.

She decided she would tell him the truth.

"I like him a lot. He has been a huge support to me in difficult times. He's a good friend and a good teacher." She said softly, shrugging her shoulders, feeling her heart pounding fast, and he stiffened all over, something in her answer causing him pain.

He didn't answer, playing with her fingers involuntarily, looking at their hands with a blank stare.

She thought in disbelief that he was jealous.

"However, if he were the one to ask if he could touch my cheek or grab my hand, I would refuse him. I have no desire to be close to him in that way." She said quietly, embarrassed, feeling that her cheeks were burning red. She felt that he looked at her, that he was analysing her words.

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt his hand cup her cheek in a gentle gesture, turning her face towards him. She only managed to see his hazy, hot gaze, and then his warm, soft, swollen lips were pressed against hers in a tender, sticky, tentative kiss.

She sighed quietly, feeling him tremble as he pulled away from her for a moment to look at her, to see any sign that she wanted him to stop. She, however, only breathed unevenly, unable to get anything out, looking at him pleadingly.

"− please −" She whispered, placing her hand on his, stroking his skin with her thumb, his hot, excited breath enveloping her face.

He leaned in again, this time invading her lips more confidently with the wet click of their saliva, penetrating the fleshy structure of her mouth with unbridled curiosity − she heard him purr with delight each time he pulled away to take a breath in only to sink into the warmth of her lips again.

He sighed as she began to shyly reciprocate his kisses, not wanting to startle or frighten him, keeping her hand on his wrist, restraining herself with the rest of her strength not to touch him, focusing only on the wonderful sensation, his scent filling her nose, his closeness, his lips gently brushing hers with each sticky kiss.

She felt the tension between her thighs again, felt herself getting wet, her insides clenching and pulsing wonderfully in pleasure.

He pulled away suddenly, looking at her at once delighted, frightened and ashamed, backing off slowly, stroking her cheek with his hand that she held in her fingers.

She smiled at him involuntarily, and he furrowed his brows, thinking apparently that she was mocking him, that she considered his kisses to be the attempts of an inexperienced young boy rather than a grown men.

"I feel like when I was in high school, when my female friends would hide in the toilets with their boyfriends during breaks to kiss them for at least a moment, to have a moment of privacy. It feels so good." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly with some kind of relief at the thought that she didn't mean what he suspected.

She felt throbbing between her thighs once more.

She and her professor were kissing like a couple of teenagers.

"And you…what experience do you have? In relationships." He asked uncertainly, not knowing how to bite on the subject, his free hand stroking his chin in a nervous gesture.

She lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her heart, silent for a moment. She didn't want to talk about it, but on the other hand, he had told her about what had happened to him and she felt he deserved the same.

"I have only been in one serious relationship, but it was serious only for me. At the time I thought I was very much in love, but now I think I didn't love the real man, but my idea of him. He was with me and I think he cared about me in some way, but he still loved the girl he was with before." She started and glanced at him, saw that he was looking at her intently, breathing unevenly, his fingers trailing over her hand.

He was really listening to her.

"I think she was simply the love of his life. I saw it in the look in his eyes when we were on a class trip and he picked a flower from a bush and slipped it into her hair. That's when something inside me snapped, and even though he told me it didn't mean anything, I knew I was just a substitute." She said quickly, swallowing hard, feeling tears under her eyelids, knowing that he would probably think she was just another stupid idiot who doesn't even see when a men doesn't want her.

He, however, moved restlessly, running his thumb over his lips, and she saw that he was looking at her intensely.

"He took everything from you even though he knew he would never give you the same thing in return." He said dryly and she blinked rapidly, clenching her eyelids, thinking only of not crying, not thinking of her giving him her first time and her first kiss, of her believing him when he said that with her he wanted to start over, that those things were just an unpleasant past.

She wondered if he had imagined when he made love to her that it was his ex-girlfriend who lay beneath him, not her, and she felt involuntary tear after tear run down her cheeks.

She let go of his hand and stood up abruptly, walking to the bathroom, throwing over her shoulder that she needed to calm down, that she would be right back.

"Wait." He said frightened, getting up quickly, grabbing her wrist, towering over her with accelerated breath. She stared at the material of his black t-shirt, tightening her lips, breathing in pain.

He lifted her hands and with a slow motion placed them on his chest, holding them in his own so that she made no other move. She could feel his heartbeat beneath the black material and lifted her surprised gaze to him − his breath was uneven, he was looking at her with sadness and fatigue.

"For me, you are like Eve in Eden, who appeared beside me as a godsend." He whispered in a trembling voice, his eyebrows arched in pain.

She looked at him in disbelief, feeling her heart squeeze at his words, heat spilling over her body at this comparison, so intimate, spiritual and yet filled with pure human desire.

"The same Eve who brought Adam his downfall?" She asked in a trembling voice. He smirked and chuckled under his breath, stroking her hands with his thumbs.

"Are we sure she was to blame? Maybe it was Adam who brought the fall on her. Maybe Adam and Satan were the same person. Maybe the fruit the Bible speaks of was between her lips −" He breathed out, catching her by the nape of her neck, pressing into her lips with certainty that surprised her, her core pulsing hard at his choice of words, at what he was doing, at how dark and lewd his thoughts were.

She clamped her hands on the material of his t-shirt reciprocating his kisses with sweet devotion and he purred loudly, delighted to feel her in this intimate way, his lips hot, swollen and moist.

She knew she could not touch him except in the way he himself allowed her to.

"− maybe the juice of that fruit was on her tongue −" He exhaled in a trembling voice, one hand holding her wrists, the other clenched in her hair, kissing her deeply and passionately, tasting her saliva every time the tip of his tongue timidly licked hers.

She felt like she was going to die of arousal, the pulsing between her thighs was becoming unbearable, she could feel her underwear all wet, her legs were trembling.

"− or deep between her thighs −" He breathed out, and she moaned in surprise as she felt his free hand painfully slowly slide down between her legs, his fingers tentatively running over the material of her shorts, teasing the spot that was making her head spin.

"− oh God −" She mumbled into his mouth, involuntarily rocking her hips in rhythm with his strokes, clasping her hands tightly on his shirt, feeling her hard nipples begin to peek through from under her top − she could hear them both panting, overwhelmed by the frenzy of this sudden, intimate rapture.

"− tell me to stop −" He breathed out into her mouth, not speeding up his movements, squeezing the place where she so needed him with his fingers, but through the material it wasn't enough, she sobbed helplessly feeling that she was about to explode with arousal.

"− please − please − please, touch me there −" She mewled and heard him draw in the air loudly, pressing his forehead against hers, panting heavily along with her, looking at her with a dark, hot gaze.

"− are you sure? −" He asked in a trembling voice, and she nodded.

She looked at him with misty eyes as he brushed lightly against her lips, as if he wanted to reassure her, raising his hand slowly, uncertainly slipping his fingers under the material of her shorts. They both panted into each other's mouths as they felt his hand wander down and cried out loudly when they finally felt how wet she was.

"− oh fuck − God − you're leaking −" He gasped in a trembling voice as if he had made a startling discovery that he had completely not expected. She moaned in response to every stroke of his fingers, involuntarily seeking his lips again, no longer knowing what to do with the tension she felt, agonised and desperate.

"− please − up there − gently − oh, God, yes −" She whined into his mouth when she felt him find her clit, sensing her reaction he began to tease her with the strokes of his fingertips, bringing her to spasms, she felt like she was about to cry out in delight.

"− yes − please − forgive me − please − please − please −" She mumbled at the same time ashamed that after what had happened to him she was begging him to give her fulfilment, on the other hand hearing how much he liked what he was seeing, his tongue invading between her lips with his sighs of satisfaction.

"− indeed your skin there is like the flesh of a fruit − sticky, soft and wet − fuck, you'll let me taste you there one day, won't you? − let me taste the forbidden fruit with my tongue −" He gasped out pushing his tongue into her mouth, licking her and she parted her lips feeling that his words had just brought her to her peak.

She clenched her eyes shut and sobbed loudly, coming hard on his hand, lifting and falling on his fingers, only hearing him mumble into her mouth "oh God"; "oh baby"; "so much flowed out from you"; "oh fuck".

She had a feeling that if he hadn't slid his free hand from her hair to her back and pressed her against his chest she would have just slumped down, quivering all over, her legs soft and numb, wonderful, tickling waves of heat spilling over her body.

He swallowed loudly, sliding his fingers out from under the material of her shorts − she could feel what was happening in his trousers, how intensely he throbbed, how hard he was.

"− I − I'm going to go wash my hands − okay? − I'll be right back −" He whispered in a trembling voice, kissing her hair with tenderness, and she only nodded her head incapable of any other meaningful response.

He let her go and locked himself in the bathroom, and she moved towards her bed and lay down on it, breathing loudly, feeling wonderfully warm and relaxed, thinking only of the fact that she had never come so hard before.

She heard him turn on the water, which flowed and flowed and flowed. She knew it was all taking too long, she knew he was just bringing his own relief with his hand, knowing he wouldn't last after what he saw.

She knew he wasn't ready for her to touch him like this, but it pleased her how much he wanted her, how in her presence he was opening himself up to touch and sensation, including that experienced by her.

She heard after a few minutes that he had indeed started to wash his hands, and after a while he turned off the water and left her bathroom, turning off the light − there was more colour on his face than usual and he was unable to look at her. She smiled at the sight, happy and calm for some reason.

She heard him walk over to the bedside lamp and turn it off, and after a moment he lay down behind her as he had the day before, putting his arm around her.

"Is everything okay? Do you feel well?" He asked quietly. She could feel how shaky he was and recognised that they both couldn't believe what had happened.

"Yes, and you?" She asked just as quietly, stroking his hand, wanting to be sure that he didn't regret what he'd done, that he didn't feel any discomfort or unpleasant memories came back to him.

He was silent for a long moment, lying with his face snuggled into her hair.

"I haven't felt better in years."

____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[dolicekiss]

Cameras & Cash

PAIRING: Modern!Aemond Targaryen X camgirl!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) reader is sort of like an innocent bimbo, cam girl reader turned sugar baby, controlling aemond, toxic aemond, petnames, masturbation, fingering, brutal throat fucking, breath play, sugar daddy aemond, forced brutal fucking, pussy slapping, face slapping, hair pulling, degrading, humiliation, condescension, riding, mating press, choking, spitting.

SYNOPSIS: When Aemond finds you with your fingers deep inside your cunt, sprawled in front of a computer, he realizes his roommate is a camgirl in need of cash. He offers you money, in exchange for your time and attention while setting one rule in front of you; never turn off your location. But you exactly end up doing that.

The last thing Aemond Targaryen expected was to walk in on his little roommate, you, with your fingers in between your pretty pink cunt, moans of desperation and need falling her glossy lips. Fingers thrusting inside your sweet hole, sprawled out in front of your webcam set atop a table in front of your bed.

His jaw clenched, hearing the sounds that escaped your lips. His fingers had tightened around the plastic bag in which he had brought you food — something he thought you'd like.

Little did he know you were relishing in your solitude.

“Hm, please—God, feels so good.” Aemond gulped, shutting his eyes for a moment as he attempted to move but it was as if his feet were frozen to the ground, not allowing him to move at all. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he attempted to swallow the lump of saliva that had formed in his throat.

You were supposed to be an innocent, shy nerd. This, it was not you or maybe it fucking was. Aemond had no idea anymore but he should've figured it out. Every time you'd get multiple packages to your name, littered outside their apartment door and you'd always make up excuses. He should've kniwn something was up, something like this.

His fucking roommate was a camgirl.

Aemond snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the constant ringing of something, tiny little bells going off.

Your eyes fluttered open to glance at the screen, to check in the tips sent to you by your viewers but instead you caught a glimpse of Aemond standing in the doorway. Immediately you retrieved your fingers from your soaked cunt and pressed the button to end the live stream.

You didn't even bother explaining.

First you had to get out of this damn bunny suit.

Your mind was filled with all sorts of thoughts as you leaped here and there to grab something appropriate to wear. The soft bunny tail embedded in your suit bounced up and down as you moved and Aemond cursed himself for finding it adorable. Thinking how it'd bounce each time he would thrust his cock inside you.

Once your fingers managed to grasp onto an oversized sweatshirt, Aemond watched as you dashed for the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind.

In a couple of minutes you were out, dressed in the sweatshirt and not the playboy bunny suit anymore. Your sweatshirt covered your thighs and Aemond averted his gaze away from you, standing still.

“I'm so sorry you had to see that.” You apologized, nodding your head as your gaze fell down to the plastic bag in his hand. It had the logo of your favorite restaurant and you smiled. But then it disappeared realizing how stunned he appeared. “I can explain—”

“You're a camgirl?”

Well, the question was abrupt but you knew Aemond was not the type of guy to beat around the bush. He was direct, straight forward and less expressive than normal people you'd met on the campus.

Heat flooded beneath your cheeks as you nodded. “It's—It's to pay for for my loans. It pays a lot.”

Aemond tilted his head, his gaze lingering across the room. How disheveled it was when you were usually reserved, put together and calm. His eyes found you, how small you were in comparison to him. Brain playing all sorts of imaginations right now. “How well does it pay?”

Thousands of dollars.” You responded, fingers moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I need it, for tuition and living expenses.”

Aemond’s mind was blank but then an idea lit up in his mind. You needed money and fortunately enough, you were a pretty girl. He'd always acknowledged that and kept an eye on you, albeit he kept to himself most of the time. You two weren't close enough to be called friends but you two knew each other.

“I have a proposition.”

You blinked, confused by his words.

But what followed next left you speechless.

“How would you feel, if you had a sponsor?” Aemond said, his hand scratching his nape.

You gulped, appalled by his abrupt proposition. “You'd pay for everything?”

“Of course I would. Everything would be taken care of.” Aemond took a step. “No student loans. No having to work a job. I would take care of everything. In return you’d just have to do one little thing.” Aemond said as she continued being awkward, like this was the first time he'd ever done this.

You knew that Aemond was the richest guy around campus. He basically possessed enough money to purchase the whole of the university you two attended. You were on a scholarship but living expenses and other loans were piling up. It was already hard as it is settling in a new place, but then you decided to become a camgirl. It required a lot of effort and courage to step into the world of sex work but it was enough to take care of you.

You knew that nothing came for free.

Especially kindness from someone rich. Everything had a cost to it — nothing in this world was for free. Besides oxygen but you could even see that becoming sellable in the near future.

“And what is this little thing?” You asked with suspicion in your gaze. You almost wanted to chuckle, since you were proven right. “You want to be my sugar daddy, now?”

Aemond cleared his throat at the label. He did not like labels. He was not very fond of them but he nodded since it made things very easier for you to understand. ”Is that a problem? Everyone you want, you'll get. You'll be taken care of, all your needs fulfilled.”

You pondered over it.

The deal wasn't bad — it was way better than touching yourself for thousands of men on the intention.

But then it would mean depending on him, for everything. You didn't know how much you liked the idea. If things went haywire with him, you would still have enough money in your bank account for you get back up on your feet and being a cam girl was something you could get back into at any time.

You scrunched up your nose and thought before finally giving in.

But you were also curious as to why he wished to be your sugar daddy.

“Okay, I'm down for it.” You nodded your head and smiled. “But— I don't understand, why are you helping me out?”

“You need money and I have a tremendous amount to offer.” Aemond spoke as he stepped closer to you, his fingers reaching out to curl around the long strand of hair, watching with a hawk like gaze. “I do have some conditions for this little arrangement, my pretty girl.”

Your cheeks flushed at the praise, something of the same sort as greed spreading within your stomach. “Yeah?”

“First, I don't want any other man in your life besides me.” You tilted your head at the possessiveness dripping from his words and how strict he sounded. “You belong to me and whatever I buy you, you'd wear. I want you to tell me where you are at all times of the day and lastly, you will be moving in my room.”

You blinked, dumbfounded by the set of peculiar rules set before you. They reeked of control and you gulped, realizing that the man before you wished to control you. It left you a little light headed as your mind pushed and pushed for you to decline but the deal was too tempting.

“I can't have boyfriends?” You asked, a little confused at what he was proposing. The relationship between the two of you was solely going to be based on give and take, an exchange that could satisfy both parties so what was up with that.

Aemond shook his head. “If you agree to this, you'd be mine which means no boyfriends, no dates and no hookups. I'll be available to satisfy your needs, whatever it is what you need. Whether it be materialistic, emotional or physical.”

So these conditions weren't as hard and impossible as you thought they'd be.

“You're controlling.” You stated the obvious.

Aemond scoffed. “I'm a Targaryen, our family is known for being in control at all times and chasing after the best results in everything. You should know that.”

He was right. His family was known all over the news — the media practically chased after them like they were air. It was lost on you how you managed to land in a university with him, as his roommate too. But you weren't complaining.

“I'll provide everything. Clothes, food, money, everything you could possibly desire. All I ask for is a little control and pretty company.” Your cheeks reddened at his words as you realized he'd called you pretty. The last thing you expected was to get complimented by the guy who mostly kept to himself and tried to avoid everyone.

You licked your lips, wetting it before finally nodding. “I like this. Both parties will be satisfied, it's valid.”

“Good girl.” Aemond’s sudden shift in nature was confusing but also somewhat enticing as you'd not expected him to be so dominant and controlling. “Do you have any other questions?”

You were going to say no but something popped up in your head. “Does the not involving other people rule apply to you as well, or are you allowed to have other women in your life?”

Aemond understood your question and knew where it came from. Definitely not from a place of insecurity but he was well aware that if he entertained other women while forbidding you from doing the same with other men, it would only cause you to feel inferior and lead to the downfall of whatever this situation was.

“Absolutely not.” Aemond broke the haunting silence. “I have no reason to invite other women into my life if I already have you, willing and pliant.”

You pondered over it and he was right. Albeit this relationship was based on personal needs, it was not necessary for him to have other women since he had you. “We have a deal.”

Aemond nodded his head and then his gaze dropped to the worn out sweatshirt that you were in. An idea lighted up in his head as he closed the small distance between the two of you, slim fingers extending to move along the open threads of red on the neckline of your sweatshirt. He made a mental note to spoil you rotten and take you shopping.

“Be a good girl and change for me. I'm taking you shopping, you need a new wardrobe.”

You didn't take offense to his words. Knowing his taste was beyond something you could ever afford in this lifestyle. You nodded your head and turned around, moving over to your small closet.

You found a short, pink thigh length dress with ruffles at its end. It was your best dress, something you could wear around Aemond as he was filthy rich and not someone of your stature. You quickly cleaned yourself up, sprayed some perfume and left the bathroom, standing in front of him now.

Aemond noticed the light makeup you'd worn and he smiled. Cheeks a shade of beetroot and lashes curled to the top, he stood up from the edge of your bed where he'd taken a seat and walked over to you.

“You look gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks redden more and a smile crossed your lips. “Thank you.”

Aemond reached forward, fingers managing to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and the close proximity riled you up. It was weird, this dynamic. How he'd gone from barely paying attention to you to this, willing to pay and provide, look after all your needs as long as you held your end of the bargain.

You were excited, as you grabbed your white purse and tossed it across your shoulder.

“I have one more thing to ask.”

You stalled, look up at him with confusion implanted all over your face. Eyebrows arched and Aemond stepped closer, shrinking the dance between you two. His breath mingled with yours when he leaned down — lips hovering above yours. Abruptly you felt a wave of tension and goosebumps hit you like a ton of bricks.

“Kiss.”

Your lips twitched. “Huh?”

Aemond smiled. “A kiss to seal the deal, my pretty girl. Can you do that for me?”

You knew you'd have to bring more than a kiss to the table and the idea didn't vex you, so you got on your tippy toes — the massive height difference working to arouse you even more. You could barely reach his shoulder and you moved your hands over his chest, palms laid on it for support as your lips met his in a soft kiss.

Your intention was to give him a gentle peck, wanting to not rush things.

But his lips were so fucking soft. The softest pair you'd ever felt against your own and you let out a soft sigh, tilting your head as the hands over his chest slithered over to circle around his nape.

Aemond’s own eye fluttered shut as his muscular arms reached for your waist, holding you in place.

You slowly pulled back as the kiss was getting heated and looked up at him, like an innocent deer.

“Was that okay?”

Aemond was fucking gone.

Pupils blown out, lips parted as he gazed down at you. Just one kiss has drove him to the brink of insanity and with the way you looked at him, he could imagine you looking up at him from the floor on your knees, plump glossy lips wrapped around his cock. The image made him inhale, his nose burying in your hair to implant your scent into his mind.

“Perfect.”

That was all he said as he turned around on his loafers and began to make his way out of your room. You followed, your little purse in your hand as you tried to keep up with his pace. He was tall and his body was made up of mostly his slender legs. Aemond was a beautiful man and even his walk was powerful enough to let everyone know of his arrival.

In the elevator, the two of you stood in awkward silence — your mind completely glossing over the fact that you barely knew much about your roommate. Only that he possessed a trust fund, had billions of dollars at his fingers and was quiet and liked to keep to himself.

And that he was also very intelligent when it came to achieving higher studies.

“You can ask for anything.” Aemond suddenly broke the silence. “Doesn't only have to be clothes. Just put your finger on it and it'll be yours.”

Heated infiltrated your cheeks as you nodded coyly. “Thank you.”

“I'm doing this to prove that I will be holding my end of the deal and I'm serious about this arrangement. I hope it is mutual.” Aemond said as he scrolled through his phone.

You smiled at him, raising your head to look up at him. “Yes, of course. I'm also serious and here, I will share my live location with you right now.”

You opened your purse and pulled out your phone, scrolling through it here and there. You had Aemond’s number since you two were roommates, in the same campus and classes. Turning your location on and sending it to him, you glanced at his phone as it lit up, indicating that your location was shared with him.

“Good girl.” Aemond smiled, albeit subtle while raising his hand to place it upon your head, patting it. “Never turn it off, am I understood?”

You nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

The elevator soon opened and he stepped out with you pursuing him. The parking lot was empty and as Aemond walked, he rummaged through his pocket for a key and pulled it out, unlocking it. A black maserati was unlocked and you swallowed. It was the same car he often attended the university in.

Your breath was caught up in your throat because of how expensive it was. Aemond of course took note of your delightful expression and a subtle smile displayed on his face.

It was obvious that you had a liking for sparkling expensive items.

He reached the car and opened the door for you. Obviously as someone who had no experiences with men, you were more than charmed. You settled inside and he shut the door, before sitting in the car too.

“Have you finished all your assignments?”

Aemond questioned while he took the car in reverse, taking it out of the parking. You nodded at him, though you were more occupied by the opulence surrounding you at the moment. Beautiful and comfortable black leather seats — the padding beneath your butt providing you with comfort. Your eyes wandered everywhere and Aemond tilted his head as he stole small glances from you.

“So you're free now?”

“Hm, I usually finish up all my assignments first and then get to camning. Education is foremost and important.”

He was impressed by how seriously you took your grades and your education. He often watched you in class while you'd write down notes, listening intently to the teacher and scowling whenever someone would interrupt your perpetual intake of knowledge. He found it endearing.

“Can I ask you something?”

Aemond looked at you before nodding his head, his knuckles closed around the wheel of the car as he entered the street.

You swallowed. “You're handsome, rich and you mostly mind your own business. You could have any girl on the campus then why did you offer me this sort of lifestyle?”

Aemond knew it was coming.

He had a pretty valid answer for it too. He had a smug smile on his face after you'd mentioned you found him handsome. Despite the massive scar on his face concealed beneath an eye patch, people found him beautiful enough to be a model.

“Like you said, I'm controlling.” Aemond responded. “Girls don't like that and I understand why they don't, hence I decided to propose this deal. You profit off me, I get what I want which is control.”

You tilted your head, fingers nervously playing with the ruffles of your dress.

“You're basically giving me consent to have control over you. It's comfortable for both parties, no?”

He wasn't wrong the more you thought about it. He'd left it to you, it was up to you whether you were going to hand him the control over you or not and you had, considering how rich he was. How much he could provide. You didn't see anything wrong with it as weird as it might appear to outsiders.

“I suppose you're right.”

You smiled softly and Aemond glanced at you before his eye dropped lower, his jaw clenching at your exposed thighs. The image of you sprawled out with your fingers driving endlessly into your dampened cunt flashed into his mind and he inhaled — bringing his focus to driving.

The car ride was short as the malls were quite near.

Aemond parked his car and then got out, pulling open the door for you. You thanked him and the two of you were on your way inside the shopping mall.

Aemond parked his car and then got out, pulling open the door for you. You thanked him and the two of you were on your way inside the shopping mall.

It was definitely one where they sold the most luxurious items. Bright lights greeted you, beautiful stores and mannequins wearing the most eye catching pieces of clothing. Your throat went dry as he lead you.

“Pick.”

You turned to him, confused. “Pick?”

“Pick a store, whichever you want to go to.”

You nodded your head and then pointed towards the dior one. You'd always wanted to buy those famous lipglosses plastered all over social media and now you could as Aemond lead you there. You were like a cat, tied to a leash that he controlled.

Upon entering the store, the staff approached you and Aemond leaned down to say something in your ear.

“I'll be over there on the couch. Once you're done, come to me.”

With that he left, abandoning you but you didn't mind. You couldn't expect him to follow you around as you looked at different items. You asked the lady about the famous lip gloss and she smiled, leading you to the table. Then she brought out the fresh piece and you immediately fell in love with how beautifully packaged it was.

While you shopped, Aemond sipped champagne. Watching you with the gaze of a hawk — following you around the store as you picked out other items. Different dresses, some bags and makeup. He didn't mind. He had unlimited cash, never ending. His bank accounts were filled to the brim when it came to money as their business ran wild.

He had enough to provide for his next generation and then the one which followed after.

He wanted you to buy what you desired first.

That would cause you to become malleable, moldable. To his own cause and needs. He could easily shove you into a small, revealing dress for him only to rip it and fuck you in it.

The idea wasn't half bad.

His eye followed your legs, walking the store, long and slim. He sipped the liquid, feeling lightheaded almost at the thought of those legs being wrapped around his waist, or perched up on his shoulders as he thrusted his cock into your sweet little cunt.

You were his now.

The perfect little pet.

You came back to him with a wide smile, the nervousness gone from your face. Your features relaxed. “I'm done, Aemond.”

“Let us pay then.” He said, placing the glass down on the table next to the pale couch and standing up.

After sauntering over to the counter, he passed his hard over to the cashier. He didn't even care to look at the recipient, his attention focused more on you. The way you were smiling brightly, cheeks round and happiness oozed from you.

“Thank you.” The cashier smiled, handing Aemond the card while your items were packaged. You picked them up, not wanting to burden him as he carried on with the shipping spree, walking out after tucking his card in his back pocket.

Your small feet could barely keep up with him as he made his way over to another store — named Chanel. Despite coming from a poor background, you were well aware of these brands and how much a simple dress could cost.

“Your size.”

He questioned, looking down at you.

You gulped and told him your size. He only nodded as he was again approached by the staff of this store. They were usually very polite and sweet, more than willing to help out with anything. This time Aemond picked out dresses for you, some black while others in complete contrast.

It was a long, long spree and by the end of it, you were tired and you couldn't carry anymore bad anymore. Aemond had bought you everything that remotely looked beautiful on you, your arms drowning in bags and his too.

“Aemond, I need a new laptop.”

He stopped dead in his tracks and nodded, taking a turn. You followed behind like his personal pet as he stopped at a store. The boy, despite being around the same age as you, was massively taller than you. It hurt your legs to keep up with him.

As he got the laptop packaged, he turned to you and patted your head. “Do you need anything else?”

You pondered. You really did but you had almost everything in the palm of your hand for now. “I—I don't think I do. I'm very hungry though.”

“I'll take you to a restaurant.” Aemond said as he took the bag from the cashier, also his credit card, once again not sparing the recipient a glance. It was futile to him, as all his life he had never bothered to check the tag on something as small as clothes and daily use items.

You shook your head. “Can we eat here, in one of the food courts? I'm craving pizza.”

He stared down at you and then reluctantly nodded. He could do that much for you as much as he found it gross eating in food courts. He was willing to do that for you, as long as you stayed by his side. Aemond was not in love, nor was he obsessed.

But you'd caught his eye.

With your coy personality, how you kept to yourself and turned down people in the university.You were like him in ways and your beauty played a big part in your allure.

He nodded his head and you smiled, clapping your hands but not loudly enough to grasp everyone's attention. Without thinking twice, your arm wrapped around his as you pulled him along to a nearby food court. There were multiple small fast food restaurants.

Aemond stared down at the way you wrapped your arm around his — your plush breasts caressing the side of his arm, as you walked. He looked away and cleared his throat. Aemond wished to pounce on you and take you right on the floor of the mall but he had no intentions to intimidate you, to scare you off.

This was his chance.

He was not going to ruin it.

The two of you ordered after taking a seat and once your food had arrived, you digged in. The taste melting right at your tongue and you wriggled on your chair, a habit which had pursed you from childhood into adulthood. You often did that — a little dance, whenever you were eating something delicious.

Pizza was delicious.

“Are you happy?” Aemond asked, tilting his head as he stared at you.

You nodded. You were more than happy, you were ecstatic. This was like a dream, something beyond the realm of your subconscious mind. Only fulfilled within the abstract form of your mind.

“I'm more than happy.” You sent him a wide smile, your cheeks rounding up and eyes disappearing.

He couldn't understand why you were this happy because all of this, he owned. He was the rightful owner yet he never felt the same level of happiness that you were showcasing right now. He had all the money in the world, unnecessary amount of wealth left by his ancestors but he felt empty, like a tin can. Shallow and an abyss had formed within his rotten core.

It rendered him flummoxed often.

He watched you eat your meal. You were like a little girl in a candy shop, or a child lost in a toy shop. Happiness suited you. It made you appear ethereal and his mind wandered off to other sinful thoughts. It was painfully embarrassing how he kept thinking of ruining you, fucking you in one of the many lingerie pieces he'd bought you.

You were finished soon and he barely had an appetite. Aemond and you were back in his car, driving towards the apartment. This time his hand landed on your thigh, fingers curving around it, holding it. Thumb swiping across the soft supple flesh, his jaw clenched.

You felt butterflies nip at your stomach as heat pooled in your lower abdomen. Even though you did not know much about Aemond other than what you'd gathered from people on campus and little details by living with him, you found him attractive nonetheless. His beauty was unlike you had ever seen before.

You felt butterflies nip at your stomach as heat pooled in your lower abdomen. Even though you did not know much about Aemond other than what you'd gathered from people on campus and little details by living with him, you found him attractive nonetheless. His beauty was unlike you had ever seen before.

Enchanting. Captivating. Alluring.

Your breath hitched in your throat.

Aemond’s hand moved up now, while he drove and stared ahead. You wondered if it was on purpose or if he was too lost in driving to even be conscious of his own actions? The question was left unanswered as the side of his fingers caressed along your clothed cunt.

You flinched at the touch.

But you didn't complain, nor did you stop him.

Instead, the fluttering need in your stomach made you part your thighs open a little, giving him more access.

His fingers kept brushing along your clothed slit, running it along your clit. Your breath grew uneven as he completely pushed his hand between your thighs. Aemond’s fingers pressed onto your swollen clit, which demanding attention, through the fabric of your cotton panties. He found it endearing how despite being a cam girl — you had a pair of cotton panties on.

Then he retrieved his hand, leaving you aching and squirming on the seat.

It was already evening now, the sun had begun to set and darkness was soon going to lay above the city.

Aemond turned the car somewhere, you had no idea where. Then it came to a halt, as he pulled the brakes and the sound of the unlocked doors caught your attention. His jaw was clenched and his face was impassive. It did intimidate you, even if just a little bit.

Aemond turned the car somewhere, you had no idea where. Then it came to a halt, as he pulled the brakes and the sound of the unlocked doors caught your attention. His jaw was clenched and his face was impassive. It did intimidate you, even if just a little bit.

“Get in the back.”

That was all he said, before stepping out and getting back in the car. You did the same and now there was nothing separating you from him. The lever was not in between you two and your heart pounded like wild horses galloping against your ribcage.It was quiet.

You wanted to speak, but the moment you raised your head up to do it, Aemond’s hand slithered across your nape as he slammed his lips over yours. It left you with heightened desires and desperate needs. Your thighs pushed, creating friction for some sort of relief as his grip tightened on your nape. He pushed you again the door — the force of it making you wince as your back collided with the handle.

Aemond moved his lips over yours like an animal, not permitting you to breathe or even take the lead.

Is this what he meant by being controlling? Because right in that very moment, it seemed as though Aemond Targaryen would swallow you whole without letting you possess an ounce of control over him, over the actions being done between you two. His free hand slammed on the window as he trapped you completely, while devouring your lips.

Sucking and biting with utter need.

Your small hands shifted to push at his chest but to no avail. Like a strong tornado which only knew how to consume and devour, Aemond’s mind knew only of that goal. To consume and devour you.

His teeth sunk into your lower lip, nipping and you whined. Your little sounds filling up the car, causing his cock to stir awake in his leather pants. He was over the edge already, all he needed was a little push.

His hands moved to the edge of your dress, bunching up the ruffles between his fingers and pushing them up. You couldn't stop him even if you wanted to — he was strong and he was not going to stop. His actions were enough as a testament that Aemond was fucking needy.

Feeling the cold air from the conditioning in the car trickle against the sensitive skin of your thighs, you whined at the sensation of being devoured and ravaged while the heat in your abdomen warred with the chilling air.

“Aemond—”

He occupied your lips in a kiss again, slithering his greedy tongue inside your mouth and fucking it.

All while his hands found a path inside your thighs, inching deeper and deeper until his fingers brushed along your soaked panties, feeling how your cunt throbbed. A guttural groan escaped him at the feeling and he didn't waste time sliding your cotton panties aside, leaving light touches over your drenched cunt.

“Gods,” Aemond murmured against your swollen lips, “you're soaking wet.”

A satisfaction seeped into the confinement of his chest as he angled the bad of his thumb over your pearl, moving it in soft slow circles earning a breathy gasp out of you. It sent chills straight down to his loins, his leather slacks tightening and he felt suffocated in his clothes.

All because of how pretty you sounded.

“Feels good, doesn't it?” Aemond questioned like he was speaking to a child and you looked up at him, doe-eyed expression, eyes exploding with wanton and desire as you nodded.

He lowered his face to the side of your face, going lower and lower until he was buried in your neck. Aemond inhaled, the sickeningly sweet scent overwhelming his senses as the circles he rubbed over your clit grew hastier, needier.

Pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, Aemond noticed how your hips squirmed on the seat, moving side to side and he grinned at that. He ran a long digit up your soaked slit, accumulating the essence of your sticky arousal and then probing at your slick hole. It wasn't long before he had slid his finger in and your small hand moved to grab his shoulder.

Eyes rolled back, you cried out a wail and tightened around him. Being a cam girl, he'd expected you to be used to this but the faces you made, the sounds you let out, it was as if you were experiencing all of this for the first time ever.

Like a little virgin.

“Pretty girl,” he whispered along your neck before baring his teeth and sinking them in your skin. “all mine, my pretty girl.”

It was lost on you in that moment that Aemond Targaryen was staking his claim on you, possessing you.

You had no idea what you'd gotten yourself into but in this moment you could only focus on his finger moving inside your sweet cunt, his thumb drawing tender circles on your pulsating clit and his soft lips leaving bite marks and kisses along your skin.

Soon he added another finger, using both, curving them in an endless search for that sweet spot concealed within you. Soon, he found it when he thrusted up and your back arched, hand fisting the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder and head pressed against the windows of his car.

You looked absolutely ravishing.

“I can imagine the faces you'd make with my cock inside you, deep within your puffy cunt, thrusting inside.” He whispered and you hadn't expected him to be this vocal, especially when he was such a quiet person in general.

Always minding his own business, keeping to himself and not even engaging in any conversations besides the ones that are necessary.

“You'd like that, pretty girl?” Aemond questioned in a low, sultry voice. “Like my cock pounding into your pussy?”

You responded by clenching around his fingers, snuggly clasped around the pair and he chuckled in his ear. Low and deep. You really were a needy, greedy little thing and he felt his ego inflate even more at the thought of having you like this. “Something tells me you'd love it.”

Tears prickled your waterline as he thrusted his fingers deep inside you, knuckles pressing against your quivering flesh as he continued his biting. Your right leg was sprawled over his thigh as loud, prominent whimpers and moans flew out of your mouth. You were a loud one, a vocal thing but he didn't mind.

He enjoyed it.

Relished the sounds you made. All because of him. He kept plunging his digits inside you, watching your face as it contorted in pleasure and a layer of perspiration had sheened over your forehead. The heat in your body, warmth flooding through your veins winning in the battle against the air conditioning of the car.

The coil inside your stomach was near to snapping, your thighs suffering from tremors as your walls snugged his fingers. Tight to the point he felt the warmth from his fingers shoot straight to his loins. Painfully hard he was but right now, it was all about you.

After all he needed you malleable.

“Aemond, please. I.. I'm gonna..” You cried out, hips writhing on the leather seat and he curved his fingers deeper. “Let go, pretty girl. Make a mess on my fingers, show me how pretty you look when you come.”

That was all you needed. All the encouragement as you arched your nape and gasped out. Eyes rolling to greet the darkness behind lowered lids, the coil within your stomach snapped and you ascended heaven in a way foreign to you. Thighs convulsing and hips twitching, tears streamed down your face as you sobbed from the pleasure.

Gods, you were absolutely sensitive and beautiful. Perfection and Aemond knew he'd made the right choice.

All you saw was white, for a fleeting moment when you gushed out. Making an absolute mess over his expensive leather seats and fisting the fabric of his polo shirt to the point of pale knuckles.

Aemond was in awe.

How beautiful you seemed, crying and in complete bliss. In that moment he contemplated taking you right there, in that damn car. But that one little mistake, one tiny slip up of unbridled desires would become the bane of this entire situation and he did not want that. Circumspect to actually push more, so he took you in his arms and pressed your face in his chest.

“You're fine,” he whispered, softly as your flushed cheeks throbbed from the heat and embarrassment. Gaze flickering down to leather black seats glistening from your climax. “you did well, pretty girl. You were amazing.”

Hearing praise from someone could mean so much and your heart fluttered as your own arms moved to wrap around his nape. Buried in his chest, it was a good feeling. Being taken care of like this, it surely helped you feel much better about this whole predicament.

“I'm sorry about your car.” You whispered and Aemond shook his head.

The car didn't matter, the fine leather didn't matter when he could watch you unravel like this each and everytime. “Don't worry about it, it's nothing.”

You'd calmed down now and thoughts lingered. This situation wasn't as bad as you'd expected it to turn out and it made you relax a little, nerves put to sleep.

A month had passed.

Life had changed drastically for you. Camming was long forgotten as Aemond provided you with everything. From a something as minor as a toothbrush to a luxurious car. He had given you everything, anything that you ever even laid your gaze on and you truly felt like a princess.

That was until you decided to go out with your friends to a club.

It was packed. Loud music and flashing lights expanding over the area outside, a sinful invitation for the people passing by on the streets.

You were dragged along by your friends and giggles erupted from your mouth as the entrance to the club was packed but nonetheless, you were allowed in. It was the same club which you had visited multiple times with Aemond in the past one month and the bouncers immediately recognized you, giving you permission.

Using Aemond’s power to go into VIP clubs was thrilling. It was what you got in return for being his little plaything.

The music was boosting, its bass loud enough to shake the club dance floor. You were pulled to the bar and your two girl friends ordered some drinks. Each ordering a shot of tequila with lemon and salt. They had begged you to come to the club with them and had even encouraged you to turn off your location.

A big mistake.

But the idea of a fun night out without a care in the world was too enticing for you to not act upon it.

The club was crowded, people going crazy on the dance floor, some couples even making out in the corner and you grinned, brain showing you images of the time when you had ridden Aemond’s cock in the corner of the club on a couch. It was euphoric and the memory brought heat to your cheeks.

“Drink up!” You heard a friend scream over the music and the three of you drowned your shots.

That carried on until you three had consumed about four shots. You swayed over to the dance floor, the music picking up and your friends followed. Dancing your heart out, you turned down every boy that dared to approach you, telling them how you were already in a relationship.

A relationship that was not normal.

Your phone in your purse buzzed and buzzed, set to vibration, with text messages from Aemond and missed calls. All which you ignored in the pursuit of a fun night out.

Meanwhile Aemond was holding his device in his, gripping it with such exertion, it could break in his hands. He was at a dinner with his parents, carrying on conversations about his university life but when he decided to check your location and found it turned off, an irritation set ablaze. The cherry on top were you not picking up his calls, nor responding to his texts like he didn't exist.

It angered him.

You'd broken that one rule he had strictly prohibited you from breaking.

“Excuse me. I've got some business to attend to,” he stood up from the chair abruptly and nodded to his parents, before leaving the table. He'd hopped in his car with a clenched jaw and a hard glare, his knuckles releasing all his anger and frustration on the damn steering wheel.

“Pick up, fucking pick up.” He muttered, dialing your number again but to no avail. Aemond was disappointed. He was seething and he had absolutely no fucking idea about your whereabouts or if you were even safe.

You'd never done that before.

As he was about to tap on your number again, his eye narrowed at the number which flashed before in his gaze. Picking it up, she brought it to his ear.

“What.”

“Your girlfriend is here. With her friends, I thought you should know.” It was the manager of the club, someone that Aemond knew very well.

With poorly contained rage, he responded back. “Keep an eye on her, I'll be there.”

He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and picked up, foot pressing against the accelerator. It wasn't long before he had parked right outside the club and maneuvered his way through the large crowd of people. Lips in a tight line, his one good eye ran over the people dancing.

And there you were.

With anticipation drumming in his chest, he found you with your arms in air as you swayed your hips left and right. A big smile stretched over your face, without a damn worry in the world.

He scoffed and walked over to you, his hand reaching out to circle around your frail wrist. Aemond pulled you to him and a gasp left your lips when your eyes met his and a chill ran down your spine. He looked angry, the expression was never seen before on his face but it was there.

Usually he was very sweet, very gentle, and he fucked good too.

But right now you could feel the heat emanating from him.

“While I’m worried sick, having no fucking idea about your whereabouts, you're having the time of your fucking life.” Aemond snapped at you and his harsh tone knocked the air out of your lungs.

But that wasn't enough.

He dragged you out of the club, not caring about the amount of people he crashed into, his only goal being dragging your ass back to your shared apartment and reprimanding you. Reminding you who owned you, who you belonged to, who fucking looked after you.

Your attempts to free your wrist out of his grip were proven useless as he pushed you into the car, watching how your body collided against the plush seats. Then he moved over and slid into the driver’s seat. A scowl was evident on his face as his speed went above hundred, reaching the apartments soon.

It scared you how quiet he was being.

You could not dare to speak up, to apologize to him because he was furious. All you could do was sit there, with trembling hands and a stomach churning with anticipation. Forehead covered in a thin layer of perspiration and lips twitching, you two made it out of the car.

His hand was clasped once again around your wrist, dragging you up to the apartment.

The moment he reached the door, he opened it and pushed you inside with a scoff. His face devoid of any emotion other than anger and you felt your heart thud like a galloping horse in your chest. Aemond was like a deadly viper, waiting to envelope you.

“What did I say about the location?”

You knew he wanted you to say it, but your throat had dried. Your lips glued together and Aemond reached forward, closing the distance between you two, fingers dimpling into your cheeks to elevate your chin up. Grip harsh and searing.

“What. Did. I. Fucking. Say?”

You flinched. “Never.. Never turn it off.”

He nodded. “And what did you fucking do?”

“I turned it off.” You whispered, feeling the weight of what you've done heave down on you. The fear spread across your face was such a enticing sight for him and it only burgeoned the strength he applied to your chin.

You whimpered in response.

His pupils were dilated, blown fully and his pale skin was dusted red from all the anger and frustration pent up inside him. You panted, breathing ragged and broken as you tried to soothe him. “I'm sorry—I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, my friends, they told me it wouldn't matter—”

“Your friends fucking told you to turn off your location and you listened to them?” Aemond lowly questioned, his next words were even more condescending making you feel like you actually were stupid. “Are you that dumb?”

You felt tears brim your eyes and you sniffled, feeling like you had disappointed him. Like you'd ruined the perfect relationship which had stirred between the two of you and the sight of you so fragile, on the brink of falling apart only made his longing for you grow even more. “Who pays for your little designer bags, huh? I recall it is my credit card that you swipe whenever a new dior bag catches your eye, not your fucking friends.”

Aemond released your chin and you almost felt relief wash over you, only he used the same hand to grab you by your nape, dragging you along.

Your feet could barely keep up in the tall heels you were as he carelessly pulled you along up the stairs.

“You need a good throat fucking. That'll fix you right up.” Aemond said through gritted teeth, pulling you over the stairs.

Reaching your shared room, he pushed inside it and took a seat on the bed. His actions rough and condescending as he shoved you down on your knees. It hurt from how harshly he was man handling you but you felt as though you deserved it for breaking a rule.

“I'm sorry—”

Your head whipped to the side from the sheer force of his hand colliding against your right cheek. A burning sensation blossoming paired with scarlet and your eyes widened at him. It had left you speechless and Aemond’s hand drowned in your locks, tugging on them at the base causing you to arch your nape and look up at him.

“If you used your mouth for something else other than sucking my cock, I'll make sure you never see the light again.” He threatened, with a glare. “Understood?”

You were not one to take his threats lightly and you nodded, with a soft sob escaping your lips. The sight of you so unraveled and disheveled, even though he had not done anything as of yet made his heart clench and his resolve almost crumbled apart.

Only his anger possessiveness won.

His eye dropped down to the prominent bulge in his pants and you didn't need any more clear instructions than that to do what he wanted. Trembling fingers worked their way around his pants as you dragged his zipper down. In a few seconds, you had unveiled his cock and pulled it out. It didn't curve or hit his abdomen, the heavy weight of it holding it down. With his cock, came equally heavy balls and a shudder ran through you at the sight.

Closing your fist around his cock, you earned a growl from him.

“Suck.” He commanded and you were more than quick to oblige, leaning in and closing your glossy lips around his cock.

Taking him deeper and deeper, sliding with your tongue laid flat against his underside, feeling a vein there throb with obvious wanton. You dived in more, the tip of your nose coming in contact with his neatly trimmed hair emerging from his groin. Tears spilled when his swollen cockhead breached your throat, fully nestling in there.

Aemond groaned, his hips bucking up with need. “Hold still, don't fucking move.”

You tried, attempted to stay still but when he moved his hand down to pinch your nose, destroying any chance of you receiving oxygen, you started trashing. Aemond didn't care, relishing how you broke and teared up more, face turning pale.

“This is exactly how I felt when your stupid fucking location was off, princess. How worried I got, how I couldn't fucking breathe.” Aemond reprimanded and all you could do was look at him with tearful, pleading eyes, begging to be let go.

You trashed here and there, hands moving to his thigh, nails digging into his skin through his dress pants but that was nothing in front of the anger which had erupted like a damn volcano from him. Your desperation to free yourself was least bothersome to him as he tightened his fingers around your nose.

Saliva sputtered around your mouth as you sobbed, endlessly trying to free yourself and then Aemond finally released you. Both his hands moving back to rest on the mattress, he watched you inhale long chains of oxygen, watching you fall back on your ass and claw at your throat.

“Back to sucking, whore.” Aemond snapped his fingers.

You looked up at him through a teary gaze and nodded, getting back on your knees and wrapping your mouth around him, engulfing him. He groaned at the return of your warmth and bucked his hips up, fucking your throat with abandon. It wasn't lost before he spurted his hot white cum inside your throat, straight shooting down. You fluttered your lids shut and swallowed all around his mouth, not leaving a drop.

Aemond didn't even have to order you to swallow, knowing you were generally obedient.

His large hand moved from the bed, laying on top of your head as he collected your hair in a fist, pulling you up. Pain shot through your scalp and you stiffened, looking up at him as he brought you up. “You disappointed me, greatly. I've given you everything, made you a fucking princess overnight and you couldn't keep one rule?”

You sniffled, like a child, tears streaming down your flushed scarlet cheeks. “I—I’m sorry, didn't mean to.. I-I swear.”

Aemond pulled you up towards the bed, standing up and tossing you over the mattress. His softened cock regained its stamina, hardening again, swaying side to side and your eyes widened. Grabbing you by your ankle, he pulled you towards the edge of the bed and then brought his boot up, pressing it against your ankle. Hard enough to make you feel pain but gentle enough to not break your ankle.

“I could have anyone, anyone in this entire city.” He said, narrowed gaze focused. “But I chose you. You should be worshipping me, licking my fucking boots.”

You sniffled, as he pushed apart your thighs and ripped at the pathetic excuse you wore for panties. The fabric was flimsy and he tossed the tattered pieces aside. Aemond spread apart your pink glistening folds with his thumbs, revealing your little wet hole and your clit hidden beneath its hood. He loved eating you out, making you cum over and over again with his tongue.

But not now, you didn't deserve to have his tongue in your cunt after what you'd done.

So he aligned his cock with your hole, and watched as his swollen head breached your hole. Your cunt immediately squeezed around him with wanton, desperation and excitement causing him to chuckle. “God, you're so desperate. Even after I humiliated you, your little cunt clings on to me with such need.”

You look up at him, baffled by his humiliation as this was a side you never thought existed to someone like him. You'd always assumed him to be a kind introvert who somehow found you pretty and decided to provide.

This was different.

It terrified you as he glared down at you, eyebrows furrowed and pupil dilated. Due to the perspiration, his silver hair clung to his forehead and you swallowed.

In one single hit, Aemond nestled his cock deep inside your cunt and buried himself to the hilt. Your saliva around his cock had lubed it enough for him to be able to glide easily within your suffocating walls. “Fuck, I love this tight little cunt.” He growled, holding your thighs apart, a tight bruising grip leading you to cry out.

Tears spilled as you felt your pussy struggle to accommodate to his size. It wasn't the first time he'd fucked you but everytime he did, you felt like you were being split open by his thick hot cock. It felt good but also hurt and you arched your back, bucking your hips up.

Aemond slammed your hips down, taking you into a mating press position causing you to wail out as he drove deeper. Legs over his shoulders almost, his chest fully pressed against yours, his cock reaching your womb with his position. “Please, please—”

“Shut your damn mouth,” Aemond snapped, smacking you across the cheek as he began to thrust.

His cock slammed in and out of you, leaving you crying and sobbing. Your tits bouncing with each thrust, leaving you completely feeling like some porn star. He'd never taken you like this, with such humiliation and you tried to bury your face in his chest.

Aemond growled, enjoying each and every moment of your sopping wet heat engulfed around him, clamping down hungrily. His hand flew to your stomach, being able to feel his cock bulge against it and the fact that he was so deep inside you lead his balls to draw up tight. Hot and throbbing.

As his curved tip hit your sweet spot, your back arched and you cried out. “Right there, please right there!”

Aemond chuckled, darkly as he began to hit that same spot over and over again. The coil in your stomach which tethered on the edge of snapping finally did snap, falling off and your cunt squeezed him in. Gushing everywhere, making a mess and spraying him wet in your liquids. It didn't matter to him as he continued pounding into you, the headboard of the bed creaking violently from the sheer force of his hard thrusts.

“Stop, I-I can't.” You sobbed, saliva mixing in with tears rolling down your chin.

Aemond’s hand moved to your throat, wrapping around it. He pushed forward and choked you, tightening it to the point your eyes rolled back to your head. His cock pulsated within your velvety soaked walls and you grew sensitive around him, hips twitching and writhing. Thighs convulsing and body completely spent.

“Tell me I own you,” Aemond’s grip tightened, cutting off your air supply. “Tell me before I choke you unconscious.”

Your eyes opened and you looked at him, blinking away the tears. “You—You own me, own me, Aemond.” Your words were slightly coherent but satisfying enough for him.

You'd expected him to let go but the man squeezed harder, applying pressure on your throat and right when you saw random objects in your peripheral vision, he released you and pulled his cock out of you with a wet, suckling pop.

You'd assumed he was done.

But a tight slap to your swollen cunt awakened you, a wave of electricity jolting through you.

“Ride my cock,” Aemond said, already laying against the headboard. With a sniffle and more tears spilling, you crawled over to him weakly with a twitching pussy and straddled him.

Aemond had one hand behind his head while he watched you, struggling to align his slippery cock with your hole but soon, you succeeded. As you sunk down, your back arched and head turned back, hips meeting his thighs. His cock was thick but it was more longer than it was thick, stuffing you so nicely.

Your toes were pushed on the mattress as you began to ride him, bouncing up and down like some sex doll made for him. Aemond watched with a hungry gaze, finding satisfaction in how humiliated you appeared in front of him. “Bounce harder, slut. I've taught you better than this.”

Your small hands moved on his chest for support, as you impaled yourself on his length, bouncing with more vigor. Your face was flushed, drenched in sweat and tears as you bounced and bounced with all your strength.

“Who's credit cards do you use for for shopping, baby?” He asked, mockingly.

Your lips were parted open, making way for needy whimpers. “Y-Yours.”

Aemond nodded and grinned at you, a sadistic grin. “Then who's cock should you be bouncing on, who's calls and texts you shouldn't ignore?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, hips meeting his in a loud slap each time you bounced. His hands found your waist, lifting you up with great ease and holding you in the air as he began to thrust upwards, pummeling his cock into your slick heat.

The room was filled with the obscene wet sounds of your squelching pussy, each time he thrusted upwards. Your thighs shuddered, hips twitching, blood pumping fiercely and heart pounding.

Another orgasm was near, another need to burst open.

“Please, gonna cum, gonna cum again.” Your nails dug into his chest, the second impending climax much more powerful and overwhelming than the first one.

Aemond grabbed your hair, pulling it and baring your neck to him. He leaned forward and sunk his teeth into you, biting you down like some beast as his cock continued its violent abuse. You tightened around him, squeezing him in and then you came once more, making a mess everywhere. Your walls had grown extremely sensitive and you couldn't take anymore.

Eyes rolling back to your head, nails leaving crescent moons on his chest, you emptied out over his thighs. “Too much, too much! Please stop, don't wanna!”

But Aemond didn't listen. His own balls throbbed and the delicious squeeze of your hot pussy made him hiss. Teeth nibbling on your skin, he spilled his seed into you, rope after rope filling your womb up. “Yeah, take it. Take it, slut. Take my fucking cum and suck it in your tight little womb.” Shooting again and again until he too was spent and drained. You both collapsed on the bed, your face meeting his chest.

For a moment only the sounds of your low whines and his ragged breathing could be heard in the room. Your body throbbed in pain from how brutally he'd taken you but at least now you'd find peace, be allowed to fall asleep.

Too bad.

“I'm not done with you, pretty girl.” Aemond whispered in your ear and after a couple of minutes, you felt his cock harden again.

Just how much stamina did he physically possess?

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[aemondwhoresworld]

HOTD2 spoilers | nudity | MINOR DO NOT INTERACT!

Aemond Targaryen in House Of The Dragon S2E3

[lionneee]

Aemond had been welcomed at the council

English is not my first language, be kind.

•Warnings: incest, p in v, smut, kissing, taking of sexual themes, smut, chocking.•

OC!Aemond x Sister!Reader

“You’re so good– So good– Fuck, Aemond!” She moaned loudly, as she arched her back, her hands tucked up her head on her mattress, held tight in his hand.

“Fuck– You’re so tight– You’re fucking sucking me in–” He growled as he started moving faster, meeting her skin with harsh hard thrusts as he felt himself loosing in the feeling.

“My big brother is part of the council now?” She moaned as she widened her legs more, looking down at his cock entering her so furiously. He let go of her wrists, grabbing her throat to make her lay back her head.

“Such a dirty sister I have, mh?” He growled against her temple. “Aegon simply welcomed me.” He said as he trailed his other hand on her chest.

“Aegon–” She pants as she tries to speak despite the overwhelming pleasure. “Aegon trusts you– You’ll find yourself being his hand in no time– Fuck! Aemond!” She threw her head back as he hit one particular spot inside her, that almost left her breathless. He put his hand over her breast, squeezing it in his hand. 

She reached his face with one hand, but he pulled away for a moment, a flash on challenge flashing his eye, but she quickly reached again, tearing off the eyepatch from his eye.

He chuckled as he felt her clenching around his cock at the sight of his scar.

“You’re a freak. Fucking freak.” He groaned as he thrusted faster, trying to angle himself to hit that sweet spot inside her once again.

“I’m a dragon–” She panted. “I’m your dragon–” She choked as he tightened his hand around her throat.

“Mine.” He growled in her ear, as he loosened his grip around her neck, leaning down to suck her breast in his mouth.

“Oh, Gods– Aem– Fuck– You’re so good to me–” She placed a hand on the back of his hair, keeping him close as he licked herr nipple, sucked and bit, wettening with his own saliva.

“You like when your brother takes care of you? Mh?” He squeezed her tit again, licking it all over, as his hips pace never faltered.

“I’ll kill them!”

The sound of skin slapping was filling the room, Aemond and his sweet sister too engrossed with their own pleasure to care about what was happening outside her room.

Careless if the world was about to fall apart.

If some head was rolling around.

“Yes– Fuck!” She moaned loudly again as he hit that spot again.

“There it is– Yes!” He leaned back up as he gripped tightly her hips, pulling her back against him as he started thrusting in her like a mad person, watching as her tits jumped up and down by the force and speed of his hits.

“I’ll kill them all!”

She moaned loudly in despair, as she started leaning back on the mattress.

“Fuck! Aemond!” She leaned back enough to make him slip out, as she panted, looking up at him as he growled, his eye fixed on his core, as his sapphire glistened, reflecting the light of the candles.

“Don’t you dare–” He pulled her back and slipped back in, resuming his thrusts just the same, finding, to her surprise, the perfect angle again. She whined in despair, as he pulled her legs back on her chest, getting deeper inside her.

“Gods– Aem–”

“You’re so fucking loud, sister—“ He panted. “Everyone will hear you, if you keep going like this—“ He kept thrusting harder and faster. “Is that what you want? Everyone to find out how your big brother is fucking you good? Uh? Find out how much of a whore you are?”

She moaned at his words, her cunt clenching around his at the idea.

“They’d have to marry us then— Finally— Aemond!”

He shushed her with an aggressive kiss, slipping his tongue in her mouth greedily, savoring her taste. She is quick to respond to his kiss, and return it, she sucked his tongue in her mouth, forcing a moan out of him.

“This is war!”

He pulled back from the kiss, hovering over her, leaning on his elbow as he lowered his hand on her pearl, massaging it lightly.

“Ohh–” She sucked in a breath, arching her back suddenly, letting out a long whine. “Aemond! Aem– Fuck– Aemond!” She gripped his forearms tightly, digging her nails in her skin, making him groan. He could feel her clenching repeatedly around him, sucking him in in such a delicious way, all of it, mixed with her moans, the smell and the sounds of sex, and the sting of pain on his arms, he was losing control.

“Fuck– You like me being a powerful man? You like that I am part of the council?” He leaned down to growl in her ear. “That I could be the King’s Hand?”

“I declare war!”

“Yes– God!” She threw her head back. “Fuck me– Fuck me like the powerful man you are– Ah!” She kept moaning, her voice completely out of control.

“God– Yes, you feel so good, sister–” He moaned as he kept thrusting harder faster, gripping her tightly. “So tight— So fucking loud.” He could see her in ecstasy beneath him.

“Come on my cock, I can feel you clenching like crazy– Shit– Come on me– Now.” He ended up growling like an animal, but it only fit the way she was fucking her right now. She moaned again, her legs wrapping around his waist as she came undone with a long moan, holding on to him, as he thrusted a few more times, finally reaching his own release.

“Shit– Fuck–” He quickly pulled out, despite her moans and her cunt sucking him in so sweetly. He jerked off in front of her as she spread her cunt with her hands, the sight too arousing to hold back any longer.

He gasped as his sperm painted her inner thighs, his body jerking violently by the force of his release.

She smiled up at him, gathering with her hand some of his release, then bringing her fingers to her mouth to suck them clean. He looked with a moan at her movements, as he sat back on his haunches, caressing her calves.

Only then they heard the fast steps and rustle outside.

“Gōntan mirros massigon?” She asked as she looked at the door, confused. 

-Did something happen?-

He looked at her, then at the door.

“Nyke ȳdra daor gīmigon.”

-I don’t know-

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413

[moonlightrafe]

Bad Idea, Right?

summary: A night of drinking with your friends lands you at your ex boyfriend’s apartment — which is ultimately a bad idea.

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Ex girlfriend!Reader

word count: 3k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, angst, brief mention of drug use, language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, creampie, Aemond is a fuckboy. 18+ MDNI

note: idk how I feel about this but Modern!Aemond is my weakness, and the grwm of Ewan ruined my life. Feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me requests!

If someone were to ask you your own personal example of girlhood your answer would be simple: getting ready for a night out with your girlfriends. While going out and partying with your friends was fun, you considered the act of getting ready together art in itself.

It was tradition, a ritual. Filled with laughter, inside jokes, excitement, and anticipation.

Glitter, hairspray, memories. It was your time to bond and let go of everyday stress.

And that’s where you found yourself right now: sat in front of your best friend’s vanity, large curlers in your hair. The sweet smell of vanilla coming from Rhaena’s birthday cake scented candle filling the room.

Six months had passed since your breakup with Aemond and the twins had declared that you had spent more than enough time moping. It was time to get you back out in the world.

“I’m so happy that us girls are going out tonight,” Baela said as she finished up applying her mascara.

You involuntarily scoffed at her comment.

“What?” She questioned, glaring at you.

“It’s not like it’s just us,” you say matter of factly.

“Oh, come on! You know Jace is basically one of us!”

She wasn’t wrong. If you had to pick a guy to be in your friend group, it would be Jace Velaryon. He was easy to talk to, kind, considerate. A breath of fresh air from what you were used to. You understood why Baela was into him. Plus, he donned a beautiful set of chocolate colored curls matched with an adorable, toothy, grin.

“Do not beat around the bush, Bae!” You admonished, “I know Cregan will be there too.”

Cregan Stark was Jace’s best friend. A rugged guy from the North. He had a thick beard and piercing gray-blue eyes. He had quiet confidence, basically a big teddy bear. There was no denying he was rather handsome. It’s not that you would be opposed to sleeping with him, per say, you just weren’t sure if you were ready yet; although Baela begged to differ.

Once the three of you were all ready to go and the Uber was on it’s way, Baela pulled you to the side.

“Look,” she began, holding each of your hands in hers, “I know you're nervous. You’ve been through a lot and it can be hard to put yourself back out there — but you deserve this. Aemond’s out living his life, you have to live yours! It’s going to be fine! You look incredible, we are going to have a great time.”

Baela, as usual, was right. You were enjoying yourself. You were now on your third drink, tapping your finger nails on the glass as you half heartedly listened to Cregan tell an embarrassing story about Jace from when the two of them were in high school when you felt your phone vibrate.

A text from an unknown number flashed against your screen, paying no mind to it you opened it immediately. Your stomach dropped.

Hey… it’s Aemond.

You swore that men had some kind of radar that would let them know when a woman was finally happy without them. When that radar went off, only then was it that they decided to try to contact you again. Not during the months where your heart was left in ruin, not when you would do anything for answers. Only once you were healing, on the brink of reaching that light at the end of the tunnel; they weaseled their way into your life once more to ruin everything — and Aemond was right on schedule.

It had been months since he last contacted you, you felt as though your stomach was gonna fall out, your nervous system in a frenzy.

You could not let him ruin your fun.

“Let’s take a shot of something,” you suggested.

And then your phone buzzed again.

I know it’s been awhile, but I wanted to see how you’re doing?

Been awhile? That’s the understatement of the year. He didn’t care how you were doing when he broke up with you over a text. He didn’t care when the rumor of him sleeping with a professor spread around campus, humiliating you.

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

Relief washed over you once you saw Baela return with 5 shots of Tequila in hand.

“Heard this makes your clothes come off,” she said as she handed you the shot glass, shooting a wink over to Cregan. You downed the shot quickly, ignoring her comment. The liquid burned down your throat as it settled into your stomach.

Slamming the shot glass onto the table, your head spun and you could’ve sworn you felt your phone vibrate again. You needed air.

“I’ll be right back, I need a cigarette.”

“I’ll come with you!” Rhaena chirped.

“No!” You shouted, almost too enthusiastically.

“No, that’s okay. I know you hate the smell of smoke, Rhae. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, you frantically made your way to the patio of the bar. Just as you lit your cigarette a familiar voice called out to you.

“Ohhh shit! I knew that was you!”

Now you were sure that the universe was certainly conspiring against you. It was none other than Aegon Targaryen. Aemond’s drunken, perverted, older brother. Wonderful.

Turning on your heel abruptly and puffing smoke out of your nostrils you gave him a reluctant wave.

“Hi, Aeg.”

“How are you?” He asked, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “how have you been?”

Not sure if it was the liquid courage or the need for someone else to witness the audacity of your ex, but you just shoved your phone into his chest, eyes glued to him as he scrolled through the messages with his eyebrows raised.

“Damn, I never would have thought Aemond to be the type to beg!” he laughed as you shot him a look of disapproval.

“Listen,” he said before taking a long drag of his own cigarette, “Aemond means well. He was pretty shaken up after you guys broke up.”

Yeah, right. What was there for him to be shaken up about? He broke up with you.

“And if you ask me,” he continued through puffs of his cigarette, “you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone like, twice our age?”

“Not anymore.”

A pregnant pause filled the air between the two of you as he handed you your phone back.

The conversation was becoming awkward, so Aegon tried to comfort you the only way he knew how.

“I know you’re stressed and all… do you, uhhh, want a bump?”

His question took you by surprise.

“A bump? Um, I’m good, Aeg.. thanks.”

The blonde lifted his hands up in defeat.

“Good call, if you do go see Aemond, I doubt he would be happy about that.”

“I’m not going to see Aemond,” you answer flatly, hitting his arm lightly.

“Well, whatever or whoever you decide to do tonight I wish you luck!” he smirked, “but, I know our mom would be thrilled if you started to come around again.”

“She misses me?” you blurted out, the desperation clear in your voice.

“Yeah,” Aegon shrugged, “we all do.” He smiled as his large palm patted against your back before he made his way back inside the bar.

You stood in silence as you finished your cigarette, unsure of what to do when you received yet another text from Aemond. You responded with the first thing that came to your mind.

Have you been drinking?

No. Come over. I want to see you.

Your phone buzzed again, but this time it was a picture. A photo of his cat Vhagar. The elderly feline was sprawled out across his leather couch, the caption reading: “she misses you too.”

She did not. She only ever liked Aemond.

Well, I’ve been drinking so… can’t drive.

Where are you? I’ll come get you.

No. He couldn’t. You couldn’t risk Baela seeing, she would kill you.

Nah. That’s okay.

God, this conversation was going nowhere. Why were you entertaining him anyway?

Let me get you an Uber.

Buzz.

Please.

Gods, he was pushy.

Fine 🫠

Once you found yourself back inside the bar, you decided to use that last shot of tequila as your reason to leave. You had said something along the lines of the mixture of liquors wasn’t agreeing with you and that you were gonna head out. The girls were disappointed, but they understood. Baela’s only condition is that you were sure to text her once you were home safe. You bid Jace and Cregan goodbye, and even agreed to go out for drinks with them again in the upcoming week.

As you sat in the backseat of the Uber, your palms filled with sweat and your heart raced as you made your way to the other side of the city to Aemond’s new apartment. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how he might react and if this was the right decision. Your mind raced with thoughts and emotions, but you tried to stay composed as you you pulled up to the building.

Aemond was waiting outside the apartment complex for you. His expression was unreadable as he puffed on the last few drags of a cigarette, quickly flicking it to the ground and stomping it out so he could make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he greeted, offering a shy smile before extending his arms out to hug you. “I’m glad you decided to come.”

His scent alone was intoxicating. A mixture of nicotine, spearmint toothpaste and musky cologne. Being in his embrace again had your head spinning, you felt as if your heart was going to beat out of your chest. It was almost as if the two of you never parted ways, like he never left. Damn him, you thought to yourself .

“Well, this is my new place,” he said as he opened the door to the lavish apartment. It was absolutely was stunning. Beautiful, mahogany cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and a giant window that had an incredible view of the city. It was very Aemond-esque. It felt familiar, safe.

You spotted Vhagar on the dark green velvet couch in the center of the room.

You watched carefully as one of her eyes opened, she rose from her spot almost instantly once she spotted you. Making a beeline to Aemond’s bedroom.

“I thought you said she missed me?” you asked playfully.

"I may have lied," Aemond replied, giving you a shy smile.

An hour had gone by and you had spent the majority of it arguing with Aemond about your past. You listened to him attempt to apologize, explaining that it wasn’t you, it was him. He made a mistake, he’s changed. You weren’t having it, and yet, in the midst of it all, you had found yourself sitting so close to him you were almost on top of him. Mid sentence he had crashed his lips against yours. A rude interruption, for sure — but now, all bets were off.

The kiss was rough and intoxicating, a clash of teeth and tongue. He grazed your bottom lip with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth. Your head spun.

"More," you whispered against his lips, "I need more of you."

Aemond took no time to pick you up and carry you to his bedroom, as he placed you down on his bed gently. You feel his hands tearing off your clothes, striping you down to your underwear. Your heart raced with anticipation and desire. The intensity of his touch sent shivers down your spine. He lowered himself on top of you, reaching his arm up over his shoulder to remove his own shirt.

As he leant back down over you, his tongue trailed from your chin to your lips. A soft moan escaped your throat as he sucked on your lips, taking control of the kiss.

Arousal stirred inside you as he nipped down at your neck, licking and sucking until you arched your back under him, desperate for his touch.

“Missed me baby?” he teased, “because I sure missed you”, his violet eye scanned over your body, blown with lust as he made his way down. His slim fingers ghosted along your stomach, then gripped harshly onto the meaty flesh of your thigh. Your legs parted, letting him know what you wanted. He didn't hesitate, pulling your underwear off with one swoop. Leaving you completely bare in front of him.

“I missed this pretty little pussy too, fuck,” he groaned before biting at your thighs just before lowering his head between them, licking a stripe up your slit. You bucked under him, pushing him harder against you, driving his face deeper into your center.

A low groan left your throat, his name falling from your lips as you tugged at his silver hair and held his face against you. His tongue circled around your clit, the small bud swollen from his attentions. His fingers found their way inside you, exploring your cunt.

His thumb replaced his tongue on your clit as he rubbed harsh figure eights against you. He continued to rub your clit harder. Your breathing quickened, and your body legs began to shake.

"Oh, there’s my girl. You gonna cum for me?"

The combination of his words and a few more thrusts of his fingers made your mind go completely blank. Your ears rang, your vision blurred so much you had to squeeze your eyes shut, eventually seeing stars. Aemond finger fucked you through your orgasm as you soaked his hand.

You laid there for a moment, total blackness surrounding you until your Aemond’s calm voice brought you back to reality.

“Holy shit. You good baby?”

You nodded your head eagerly at him, “More than okay.”

After giving you some more time to come down from your first orgasm, Aemond crawled on top of you, as he began to slowly drag his cock between your already swollen folds, swirling the tip in your wetness; almost pushing in, but not quite.

“Aem,” you moaned, “please, I need to feel you. All of you .”

“Still so needy, hm?” He teased as he buried his cock inside you to the hilt. You winced at the length of him.

“Littleeee bit of a stretch baby,” he said as he let you adjust to his size, “there we go.”

"Oh.. Gods," you moaned. You forgot just how big Aemond was. The stretch was almost unbearable and yet, you craved more. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper into you.

He began to rock back and forth into you, pumping his cock in and out. The louder you moaned, the harder he pounded into you. Eventually, the head of his cock pressed against your cervix.

"Please, please don't stop," you begged. He began to pound into you harder and faster, the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the room. You felt your second orgasm of the night building inside of you as he continued to fuck you.

"Oh, Gods! Aemond, please, you’re going to make me cum again,” you babbled as your orgasm ripped through you once more. Your cunt clenched around his length as the tip of his cock bullied the spongy spot inside you without mercy.

Your slick coated walls contracting around him was all it took for him to lose control. He let out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his seed as he bit down hard on your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned as the aftermath of his own orgasm coursed through him, his cock still twitching inside of you. After placing a wet kiss on your cheek he positioned himself upright, placing a hand flat on the headboard behind you to help keep balance, he slowly pulled his cock out of you. You winced at the emptiness, a pool of warmth leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets.

“Oh, shit. Here, let me help clean you up.”

As you came down from your high, you also came to your senses. No. Him cleaning you up would be too intimate of an act — as if he wasn’t just buried inside of you.

“No, Aem. It’s fine, I need to go to the bathroom anyway.”

He shrugged, “there are washcloths under the sink if you need one.”

Your heart sank as the bathroom door shut. A red lacy bra, that definitely didn’t belong to you was slung over the door handle. Memories of your past relationship came flooding back, along with feelings of sadness and regret. You couldn’t help but wonder who the bra belongs to, your first thought was that older professor. It's a painful reminder that not only had Aemond had not changed at all, he also just took advantage of you.

This was definitely a bad idea.

[venmondiese]

SECRET TEAMWORK

a request from my lovely @slytherincursebreaker ♡ thank you so much!

Summary: Having a non-commited relationship with Aemond is hard, but as you find yourself pregnant, it might just be harder.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, MENTIONS OF ABORTION, p in v sex, pregnant sex, dom and sub undertones, fingering, boss/secretary adventure, slight degradation kink, slight praise kink. ✧Word Count: 6.02k

Aemond placed his own hand around your mouth, to keep your little squeals and moans away. Your pencil skirt all the way up to your hips, it was almost funny, as Aemond kept you seated atop of one of the broken tables in the storage room of the building. 

“A-Aemond!” You press your hands on his chest, moving the hand on your mouth. “You are… going to be late!” You whine.

“Let them wait” he says softly, his hand pressing against your mouth as his right hand is between your legs, tormenting you as he likes.

He is knuckles deep in your pussy, and he watches your expression as you mewl, holding on his shoulders for dear life. This is probably one of the things he enjoys most in life; tormenting you to his delight. Having you drool and moan like a wanton whore, and how your cheeks get red from the effort to be quiet. 

Your pussy might be one of his favourite things, how warm and wet it is for him. Gives him a sense of power as he knows that he can have you melting on his arms just by fingering you. 

He knows the effort you put to look nice, your face of makeup, your hairstyle, your little outfit. He loves to mess it all up. If it wasn’t for the presentation with affiliates of the company of his family, he’d probably be fucking you with no problem.

But he cannot risk not being presentable as he is the main speaker during the conference. He has a lot of things to explain, and he prefers not risking his image. 

“Shh, shh, moaning like the little whore you are” he says, smirking, as he tries not to allow any little scream to get out loudly. “Come on, baby, delight me. Cum on my fingers” he says, saying sweet nothings in your ear along with it. 

Your big nervous eyes, looking at him as he covers your mouth, is a sight that he doesn’t want to forget, truly.

He is hard, and he hates how he can’t do anything about it. He just looks at you and tries to give you all the pleasure he can’t get. 

“Wanna show me your little moans, baby?” He asks as you nod, and he can picture your pout as your eyebrows go up in a needy way. 

You feel his thumb, going in circles around your clit. It is probably the most delightful thing he does, because it is always precise and pleasurable, as if he has perfected his technique to be at its very best.

Your grip on his shoulders, as he liberates your mouth from his palm, and you let out a sob of pleasure, trying not to scream so loudly, because if you did so, it was over for you and him.

He relishes himself in the little moans and whimpers, in the way your pussy clenches around his three fingers, and he kisses your lips; his hand on the back of your neck is firm, keeping you in place as he kisses and plays with your tongue. 

“Open your mouth” he whispers, and you look up to him, knowing exactly what he is up to. 

You love how he can dominate you so easily. Most men had to make an effort to try to look dominant. Aemond had it naturally. 

He spits on your mouth, making sure to look at you as it falls on your tongue, and the way your pussy clenches as you swallow.

Gods, you are soaking wet. He knows you are close by how loudly your wet pussy sounds as he fingers you, and the little mewls you let out as you press your forehead on his shoulder lets him know that you are losing composure, and your legs are becoming numb.

“I need it, you know that… Give me good luck, baby…” he says softly, and as you let out a loud moan, your thighs squeezing his hand, he leans down to capture your lips on his.

He knows how you need tenderness after cumming. You are prone to become sensible, and more these days, when you always need reassurance. 

He kisses you, sloppy and a bit urged, but not too messy. His tongue makes its own way on your mouth, and he can feel how you are trying to keep up as you let out a muffled loud moan, and he can feel how your walls involve his fingers as you cum.

As you rest your forehead on his shoulder, he takes his fingers out, just to suck them to enjoy your taste, even if it is just a bit. It drives him wild, but he has to restrain himself and nothing makes him more frustrated. 

He rubs your back, as you pant loudly, holding the edge of the broken table, which luckily didn’t break further. He moves to watch the hour on his expensive clock, and he still has twenty five minutes to arrive. He sighs, knowing that he cannot put it on hold any longer.

“We have to go” he says softly, and you whine, not wanting to. 

He moves a bit back, and you let your head fall down as you try to relax your breathing. He makes you lean slightly back, your hands hesitantly going back on the table to hold your weight. 

He moves your panties, which he moved and made sure they remained on the side, so it doesn’t bother his work. He places himself between your legs, as he looks down and both of his hands move to accommodate your panties gently, without a hurry. His fingers tentatively caress your clit, but don't press their luck. 

“Come on. We can go to the bathroom and get presentable again” he whispers, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet. 

The heels you wear are probably uncomfortable, and he sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eye. He pulls down your carefully ironed pencil skirt, and he tries to make it presentable again. 

“You didn’t bring other heels?” He asks softly.

“No” you murmurs, looking at him with tired eyes.

“Gods, woman.” He says rolling his eye “I am going to start to buy you comfortable shoes and leave them in my office, so you don’t have to wear those things”

“It is protocol” you say looking at him, as he takes your purse and hangs it on your shoulder.

“I am the boss. If I want you to walk around naked or in pyjamas, it is my call to make” he states softly, and he leans to kiss your cheek lovingly. “Come on” 

He grabs your hand, and you follow him quietly, as he makes sure no one is around as you two walk, hand in hand to the bathroom.

He goes into the men’s bathroom and you to the opposite.

He is quite meticulous, and so your appearance isn’t messy or ruined. If something, you look exhausted. You reapply your red lipstick, and put a bit more mascara. Not too much, you don’t wanna look vulgar either.  

You place some loose hairs back into position, and accommodate your clothes again. You sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror.

The secretary and her boss. You think, as you press your lips together, nibbling the inside of your mouth. 

Once you go out, Aemond was outside waiting for you, using his phone to probably answer some texts. 

“Ready” you say, and he looks flawless once again. If he had an erection, there is no trace of it. He is truly surprising, like a little box of mysteries.

“Let’s go then” he says as he looks at you, hesitating before walking away and pressing the elevator button.

The way to the auditorium is silent. He checks his phone, and you check the little agenda where you write down everything he has to do. 

“Westeros' investors group will be here” you remind him. “And so will the Yi Ti’s empresarial boss, as you know…”

“Uh huh” he agrees. “Will my half sister…?”

“Yes. Rhaenyra will make her appearance as the heir of…”

“Don’t”

So you don’t. “Edyr Karstark will be as well” as the lift doors open, he walks out and you follow him. “Coryanne Dayne and Morgan Martell as well, from Dorne…”

You walk with him as he stops, and you see his mother and grandfather waiting for him at the door. 

Aemond looks at them, sighing. He turns to you, and you have to take a moment to move your gaze away from them.

You see the posture of Alicent straighten as she looks at you, as if squinting her eyes slightly. She holds her arms, her green dress is elegant and she looks intimidating. Otto Hightower makes no effort to hide his disgust, and he looks at you as if his eyes could throw daggers at you.

“Don’t mind them” he whispers to you “They just…”

“Hate me” you finish for him, accepting the fact.

“They… It’s just complicated”

“I am the whore who lies with my boss for his money.” You say the words that his family thinks but never say out loud. 

“You are not… You are more than that” he says softly. 

You walk behind him, as he goes to greet them. You always follow him everywhere, most of the time. You take care of the tiny details of his work life that he didn't care about. Learning names in meetings, learning the interest of the people to help him. Reminding him of his busy schedule.

“Aemond” his mother greets him, a kiss on both sides of his cheeks.

You two becoming closer was just natural, you’d told your friends. You two were single, and you spent more time with him than in your own home. And otherwise. 

It was not long ago when his sister and brother found out about you two, and so his mother knew naturally, and so did his father, grandfather, half sister… It scared you to death.

Alicent had talked to you about quitting, how easier it would be than a scandal. You never could realise if she was saying this from the goodness of her heart or to keep you away from his prestigious son. 

Otto Hightower was more direct, as he presented you with a letter of dismissal, which Aemond had to defend you. It was embarrassing, but you just… liked him, to endure his odd family.

“Hello, miss” Alicent says, and Otto greets you as well. You force a smile, and nod a quick greeting to her. “They are all waiting for you” she murmurs, and looks at him. “Your father has come for this, as well”

“Ah” he says, you can see how his mouth turns down in disgust. 

“It is well prepared” Otto adds “It is fine work. If your project is approved, those months in Yi Ti will be all for you” 

You look at your hands at the reminder. You won’t be going along, and it was a bit odd. On purpose, if even. But you have never said it outloud, less to Aemond, because it was truly an amazing project.

 “If you could bring me a glass of water…?” He asks you, and you nod. 

You walk to the presentation table, looking at the people around, chatting and greeting, no one really watches you. You take some of the bottles and pour it down in a glass for him, walking to the door, as you almost stumble against Alicent and Otto. 

“I wanted to thank you” Alicent says, and you stop a bit confused, looking at her. “He wouldn’t have done it so smoothly. You two do a great teamwork” 

It is half a compliment, you guess. She is trying, at least to be cordial. “Thank you”

You are quick to escape, and you watch Aemond at the door waiting for you. He doesn't seem too nervous, he never reveals his feelings so easily.

“Thank you” he says, in a softer voice. Drinking a bit of water, leaning out to see the people inside “I’ll remember those names you said. Any particular… thing you recommend me to say?”

You look at him, and say “Well, a greeting is much more welcomed than just starting speaking.” He looks back at you, and he nods softly “And look at them in the eyes”

“It is them who don’t see me in the eye.” He says trying to be funny.

“I am serious” your lips curl up, and add “Don’t be nervous. No one here knows more about it than you. And try not to fight” 

“You know me too well, for my disgrace” he says smiling. “How do you feel about that great bonus in your next check?” He asks slightly amused.

“Feels like the Gods have take mercy on my soul” 

You move to take a little lint on his shoulder, dangerously close in public. He isn’t one for public displays of affection, less with you. 

Perhaps that’s why his mother and family disapproved more than if you two were something. You were his secretary, and him your boss. Not partners, no compromise. 

It makes you anxious, sometimes. How could you even ask him? Not that he would take advantage of his power position over you. It wasn’t about asking your boss what exactly you two were. It was about asking him, Aemond Targaryen, what he truly felt about you. 

You could find another job, but you couldn’t find another him, another Aemond. 

“You’ll do fine. I made sure there is water, and those mint sweets” you tell him. “The control of the presentation is ready, and there are no cables for you to stumble on. The table is seated so your blind spot doesn’t face the public. It is rotated so you can read the presentation as well, so don’t worry.” 

Aemond looks at you, looking inside for a moment before wrapping one arm around your body, pulling you both out of sight as he leans to kiss you passionately, for a few seconds.

You kiss him back, if anything a bit surprised about his bold action. As he pulls away, he is quick to recomposture himself, and smirk. 

“I don’t have lipstick on?” 

“No…”

“Good” he says with a smirk. “Go and take a seat. You have earned it” 

With that, he walks inside. You blink, a bit flustered and surprised. When you look inside, you see Alicent Hightower watching you, all tense up, sitting next to her husband, who is talking to Rhaenyra. She saw you. 

You were about to be sick. You turn around as a gag comes out of you, covering your mouth, yet you don’t feel the disgusting feeling of something coming up your throat. Perhaps because you have not eaten anything today.

You try to act normally, as you walk to sit at the side of the window, looking at the cars in the street passing by, as you hear how the conference is to start. 

“Where is he, again?” 

 “Probably Yi Ti right now” you say, sitting on the kitchen counter as Amanda prepares the lasagna. 

“And he got funds for this? Like his rich family couldn’t just… allow him to borrow money?”

“Doesn’t work like that” you say amused. 

“Ha. I know” Amanda says, chuckling. She was one of your ex coworkers, and you used to have lunch with her everyday, before she quit for a better job. “How is he?”

“In what sense?” you ask, looking at your margarita yet you haven’t drink any of it yet, too occupied in the chatting.

“Happy, I mean. I don’t think I have ever seen him… Happy. Or smile. Have you?”

“Yeah” you say smiling at how silly that question is. “Duh.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Amanda turns on the furnace as she waits for it to get a bit hot before putting the lasagna, and she looks at you. 

“And did his family was there? His mum? The Alicent Hightower?”

“All of them. Viserys, Alicent, Otto, even Rhaenyra. Helaena went for moral support” you say chuckling. 

“And what about the mistress?” she asks, raising an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes.

“Alys Rivers?” You ask her. “I think she was there…”

You try to shrug it off, but it boils your blood the thought of her. More with her story with Aemond, how intimate they had been. It makes you gag.

“Oh, it burns you from the inside!” She giggles, and she places the lasagna inside the oven. “Is the Margarita good? I haven’t tried it…” she asks, moving across the kitchen to take a sip. 

“I will try it…” you say, moving your straw around, and you are hit by the hard scent of alcohol.

“It is good for a drink bought in the supermarket, you know? I waited for…”

“I am going to throw up” you say standing up from the seat, as you make your way to the bathroom of her house.

Aemond has been gone for maybe two weeks at this point, and you keep on gagging at smells, of any disgusting kind. There were only four things you relished on; the smell of the mints that Aemond liked, gasoline, hot dogs and coffee. 

Throwing up is not nice; the first time is because of the sickness, and the rest is purely out of disgust for the vomit. 

You wash your mouth, and try not to leave her bathroom with the scent. Once you come back, you see that Jasper, her fianceé, has arrived.

“Are you okay?” Amanda asks, as she walks over to you. “You love Margaritas, are you not sick? Oh! Is that restaurant where you went with Aemond to the triumph meal?” 

He made you accompany him, with his family and associates, to a dinner that his grandsire organised, in an expensive restaurant, after the triumph of having his project accepted and founded. You vomited all the food at night, probably because of the lobster. 

“It was over two weeks ago” you say, shaking your head. “I always get sick when I am about to get my period. Being irregular has its disadvantages ” 

“Oh, I get that feeling” she chuckles, going back to the kitchen as her finaceé is drinking her margarita.

You stand still for a few moments, and you realise the possibility. Probably the reality, as you had all the symptoms... it made total sense, and you stood frozen as you realised.

You were pregnant.

It is two months later when Aemond comes back. Half of his project has been completed, a total success. But his business in Yi Ti was more than done, and the oriental atmosphere was too much for a Westerosi man like him. 

He was not surprised with your resignation letter as he came back to the office, which was why you wouldn’t answer any of his texts or calls. Three weeks into his journey, he got your resignation letter, accepted by his grandsire, which only needed his signature. 

He called, and called. And nothing. You probably ghosted him, and he called Helaena to check on you. He didn’t trust his mother or grandsire. 

According to his sister, you just needed to let go of some things of the past as you realised you had more ambitions than being a secretary. 

On Friday, he is in your apartment. The building was old, and it had barely four floors, and you lived at the end of it. He has stayed in your apartment once or twice, but mostly he just passed when he dropped you off.

Luckily, he comes at the time where the old lady of the first floor is getting inside with all the supermarket bags.

“Let me help you” Aemond says as the lady is struggling between managing the heavy bags and opening the door. 

“Oh, thank you, young lad” the woman says, as he takes all the bags from her arms. He enters first, and waits for her to walk, very slowly.

The woman opens the second glass door to enter the building, and she stops at the mailbox, checking for her apartment number.

“You want me to grab yours too?” The sweet lady asks, and Aemond hesitates.

“Uh, sure. Thank you” he says, and in the silence he realises he has to say the number “41” he remembers the number of your apartment, and the lady grabs the mail for today. 

They make an exchange, where he leaves the bags in her house, and she gives him the mail. She is sweet and Aemond has a smile as he has to go all the way up to the fifth floor. 

He is not one to spy, but you have a lot of mail. Mostly about some subscriptions you made, he is curious to see if you have anything from your new job. 

He stops, mid stairs as he watches the pink envelope.  A woman’s choice. 

He hesitates a bit, before he pulls out his phone. He remembers that. Helaena and Rhaenyra both made a contribution for that clinic, didn’t they? It was the woman’s building of the hospital in Visenya’s Hill. He walks slowly upstairs, he is midway the third floor, as he walks up slowly. 

He searches for the name of the clinic, and he hates how bad the signal is. He sees the three dots moving, loading the page slowly. 

His stomach drops as he reads. Pregnancy termination clinic.

He doesn’t understand anything. 

He stands frozen, with phone on one hand as he holds the envelope behind. His mind is racing. He knows you are not subscribed to it just because. He hasn’t heard in months about you, and he doesn’t know what to conclude about this information. 

It feels an eternity before he knocks on your door. Once. Twice. Nothing.

He doesn’t hear the wood crack under your weight. It was painfully obvious when someone stepped on it, he remembers one time when he dropped you at your house, drunk, and you both laughed at how silly it sounded at every step you both took. 

He missed you, he realises. Scratch that. He knew that he missed you, but not that much for his heart to ache like that at the memory. He misses you. He feels incomplete. 

You open the door, obviously expecting anyone but him. 

You are wearing a black hoodie, using a face mask, probably orange scented. You always made sure to be well looking  in the sense that you took care of your appearance. 

You look different. He blinks slowly, as he looks at you, frozen in his place. He isn’t normally so stiff, he is usually more straightforward, a man of business. 

“Aem– Mr. Targaryen” you say, a bit surprised. The way you refer to him stings.“You are back. To what I owe the pleasure?” 

It is at the same time that you realise that he was holding your mail, as his eye trails down to your hidden stomach. Your clothes are too big to realise, which only makes him more confused, and suspicious. He can’t see anything to confirm, but it is unusual, you don't like to wear these kinds of clothes.

“You… quit” he says, dumbfounded.

“Yes. Nothing personal” you say tapping your fingers on the door. You were anxious. “I am sorry if it came at a bad time.”

He looks at you, as the lie comes naturally to you. 

“Can I come in?” 

Your place is a bit messier. He knows something is up. You move your hands to take off that stupid face mask, and your face is all shiny from it.

“I am not really… I was not expecting… visitors”

He was more than a visitor, and you knew it. You missed him. He looks as handsome as you remembered. You didn’t go to the airport, but you kissed him farewell in his office. 

“Are you… pregnant?” 

You blink at your boss. At your something. At your baby daddy. At Aemond Targaryen.

He can see the little panic in your eyes, and he lets a scared sigh. He covers his mouth as he looks at the side.

“I should have been with you” he says regretfully, and his heart feels at the floor. “I was away, and you…. You should have been so…” he doesn’t know if it is useful to say it, it was probably traumatic to you. “Forgive me. If there is anything…”

You hear his heartbroken words, still holding the door as you blink. “ thank you…” 

“We are still a team” he says, looking at you. “We… we always had been. I would have dropped everything to be with you at that moment” 

He looks at you, so calm and collected. He feels like losing his mind, and he feels pure guilt. He wants to ask you. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t you? He knows it is selfish to ask, but it was also his mistake. He would have helped you, held your hand and all of it. He would have been prepared, read about it, to comfort you in the grief, all of it.

“And forgive me for… spying on your mail, I just wanted to see if you had a new job…” he says, extending the mail, embarrassed and vulnerable. You have never seen him like this, it is almost scary.

You take the mail, and you see the pink envelope first, among the white ones. It was atop, and you looked at him.

“Maybe you should get inside” you say, moving to let him in. 

He sits on the couch, and you sit by his side. The silence was crushing, and so you speak.

“I should have told you..”

“I understand-”

“Let me speak” you say, and he shuts up. He looks at you, and you keep talking. “I… I didn’t get an abortion, Aemond” you say softly, looking at him, at how his expression changes, trying to get the words in. 

“What?”

“I just… It was an option. I was… I was scared. I am still, a bit. But… I want this baby” you admit softly, not looking directly at him, as you so shyly admit your feelings to him.

He is confused. “You… You didn’t?”

“No…”

He leans back on the couch, breathing hard at the realisation. He might faint, he has gone through many emotions in little time.

“So you are…”

“Still pregnant. Very much” you confirm, and he lets out a sigh. “And… you are the father”

Aemond bites his lips on the inside of his mouth, and he looks at the ceiling, passing a hand over his face. 

“Oh” 

“Yeah…” you say, at how stiff he is. “Three months and a half.” 

As you stand to grab your wallet, he thinks. Three months and a half back, it was probably the time when he had so much work left, that he fucked you in his office. Or was it the time where you two fucked over the cabin? 

“Here” you say showing him the ecography picture. 

In the middle of the black part of the ecography, he could see the curled up little figure. He looks at it, as if it would disappear if he moved his gaze away. It is wonderfully diminutive, yet it fills him with pride, seeing something so little that makes him feel so many things. 

He missed it. It was the most important ultrasound, and he missed it. He wasn’t there to hold your hand either, when you took all the exams to determine any genetic syndrome. He should have been, right at your side, to be part of it as well.

“It is… wonderful” he says, with a small chuckle. “You think, I could… get a copy?”

It is the subtle confirmation that you didn’t expect. He wanted this, as you did. You never talked about having kids, less so when you were never anything serious. 

“Keep it” you say softly. “I already took like hundreds of copies, you can keep it.” 

It is a surprise that he sobs, and he looks at the image. 

“You… Oh, gods..” he says, feeling utterly hopeless as he watches the little paper. He is going to be a dad, it was so… odd. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have left..”

“I didn’t either” you say. 

He looks at the image, he doesn’t even cry on purpose, just some tears falling naturally. His thumb moves to caress the paper, as if it was a soothe for him and the baby.

“You quit, how are you… affording all of…?” He makes a gesture. Everything, he wants to say, but he doesn’t want to be invasive.

“I have a part time job at a friend’s coffee shop.” You say with a nod “And a fair bit of savings” 

He looks at you, shaking his head as he feels his tears dry. He was thinking so many things. He is going to be a dad. He has not contributed anything. He has to take care of you. And the baby. He has to help you. He was going to be a dad.

“you shouldn’t have quit. It was a stable, good paid job, and the office has great maternity leaves.” 

“And would they give me more months because my boss is my baby daddy?” You ask, not from malice, but he bites his lip.

“They told you to quit, didn’t they?”

“Nobody told me” you assure him.

“They paid you.” 

“They didn’t. I wouldn’t have accepted it”

“Why didn’t you tell me, then?” He asks, almost heartbroken.

You look at him, nervous, and you don’t dare to look him in the eye. “I did the maths, Aemond. You didn’t seem the type to… you know. Compromise” 

He looks at you. It was right. He wasn’t one to show his emotions. It was probably the first time someone saw him cry, since he was like twelve, and he always made sure to keep a distance between him and the rest.

“I am not.” He says softly, looking at the image, and he sighs. “But… you and I are a family” he says, licking his lips. “and we will always be a family, with… them” he adds, pointing with a tilt to the ecography.

It is a haunting truth, that you knew. You’ll always be bound to Aemond. A scary thought. 

“We will. But I want to know, what are we?” You finally ask him. Decisively, you need to know. 

“You have my body and soul” He admits softly, and he bites his lip. “Both of you. I am committed to you two…, always. Always, of course. There is no one else I want, that I choose.”

You truly don’t know how or when you end up in his lap, kissing softly as he holds you on it. It is different from his dominant demeanour. 

He is almost rewarding you with caresses and kisses, holding you gently. He would do anything you ask him to, and he is so afraid to lose you two. He almost did, both of you, and he doesn’t want it to happen ever. 

He holds you as if you were fragile, and to this moment you are; he holds both of his most precious things, and you carry his baby.

“I am not going to break” you say against his mouth, pressing a little tighter. “I need you” you add, your hot breath on his mouth as his hands presses in your back.

“I need you too” he admits, as he accommodates on the sofa to hold you. “Here or on the bed?” 

“Wherever…”

The bed it is.

He held you all the way there, which was not a long way either, but it is good to be in your bedroom, where it smells like you, and some strange mint scent that reminds him of the mints he eats.

“Look at you, baby” he says as he takes off your clothes, eagerly, and desperate. “So beautiful as always, dripping wet for me” he says, and you blush slightly from his compliments. “aren’t you?”

“yes. i am”

“how am i even going to go on with my work when you are not there to indulge me a bit?” He asks, as he is the one to desperately take off his clothes, as you lean against the pillows, watching him. “When the idea of leaning you on my desk was enough to make me finish all of it quickly, and call you to my office.” 

He accommodates behind you, both of you laying as he kisses your shoulder, and then your nape, and leaves soft love bites, not meant to last long.

“But now you’ll just wait for me at home, hm? In my own bed, all for me” he says and you search his lips and share a sloppy, messy and wet kiss, needy and primal. 

You missed him. You needed him. 

The pregnancy hormones drove you insane. And missing Aemond was something your little babe was sure to make you feel it at all times. 

“Yes, yes, I need you inside” you feel his hand, moving to wrap your waist, and he moves behind you, holding your leg with his other hand. 

He cannot wait to see you heavily pregnant. You have a little belly, which is adorable. He supposes that, as he was, the baby will be small too. 

But he craves for when you’ll need his help to do anything. And he’ll delight himself in it.

“you missed me?”

“So much” you turn your head, for your arm to be around his neck. It is probably a twisted position, but he is not one to complain. 

His lips capture yours as his cock finally slides into you, you moan against his mouth, and his grip on your body tightens a bit. He is going insane.

He is ruthless at every thrust he gives you, and you surely are more tender at each movement of his cock in your pussy. The time apart, or your hormones, he didn’t care, as he immerses himself in pleasure. 

“So big” you moan against his mouth, and his hot breath hits your mouth as well. “I love it”

“I love you too” he says, his face nuzzling your cheek as he doesn’t think too much about what he just said, and just focuses on the way your cunt clenched around him, warm and soaked, a very warm welcome.

He holds you as precious as you were to him, but firmly, tightly. His hips swing as his cock moved and makes it’s way in your pussy, the little way his cock throbs inside, leaking the precum inside. 

“You already marked me. Everyone will know that i am yours– so fucking yours…”

The thought makes him moan. He always loved that, making you go out of his office full of hickeys and love bites, sending you back to your desk all flustered and shaky.

“Hm, you love that, don’t you? They can’t fuck you like I do” he adds smugly, as he presses open mouthed kisses on your neck.

You moan as his fingers search your clit, and are quick to find it, and he groans at how receptive you have become.

“I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. So, so hard” he promises, for the future. For now, he just needs you. “Such a good girl. Always a good girl” 

The way you squirm, and your whimpers drive him into release as well. Your legs always do that thing that he knows very fondly, they shake and your muscles tense up when you are cumming, in a very certain way. It is almost always the same, and he has grew to find it endearing, everytime he fucks you he waits for that moment. 

He thinks he is much simpler, he holds you closer to him, as if forcing you to remain there, as his balls tighten and he cocks throbs before cumming deep inside. He lets out a loud groan, rolling his eye back as he holds you. 

The way you two remain naked, yet laying together it is something he never does usually. With you, a few times. He always tends to you, and made sure you were relaxed. But you never did pillowtalk after it, you usually were exhausted and he was tired too. 

“You know what? It is almost unfair” he says, moving to search his pants.

“Oh?” You ask curiously, as your eyes follow his frame. You don't get what he means exactly, but you wait for him to elaborate.

“I brought you a present. Well, I brought two things–” he finds it in his pocket and extends it to you, and you smile upon the realisation.

“oh, Aemond…” you say looking at the bracelet, and you smile at him. “It must have been… so expensive”

“It is your favourite colour” He points out “Isn't it?”

You nod, as he moves to leave it in your nightstand, just to pull you closer to him. 

“You have given me more… expensive gift” he adds, moving to your side again, and he wraps his arm around your waist, leaving one of his hand to rest atop of your belly, firm and growing. “Thank you”

You see the gratitude in his eye, and you smile softly. “Well, to be fair it is a product of very extensive teamwork…”  

“It truly is, hm?” He asks, smiling as he moves to your side again. “We truly do make an remarkable team”

[tanyariarey]

If he's evil, why is he so cute? 🥰

Check out my Patreon for more ☺️

https://www.patreon.com/tanya_riarey

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE GREATEST TEMPTATION.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x cam girl!Reader

"Keeping your boyfriend waiting for too long is always a dangerous game, and when he finally has enough, he deems it most fitting to give your audience a real show."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, semi public sex?, rough sex, manhandling, size kink, possessive and jealous Aemond, kinda submissive reader

WORDS: 2.6 K

NOTES: This is an older story, and although I have edited it, I didn't want to change too much from my older writing. I‘ll now work on new stuff with Maegor, Aegon and Cregan. The movie „cam“ was my inspiration for this!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“Come on, guys, stop it,” you say, your hands running over the curve of your hips. A short riding crop is clasped between the fingers of your right hand while the ones of your left hand pull the thin strap of your lace thong to let it snap back against your flesh, making a show for the audience as you squirm at the impact. “You know, if you don’t get to the cum show, I’m going to have to go off cam to do it without you, so…" 

You kneel on your bed, sitting on your haunches with the ring light and camera positioned so only the parts from your neck down are visible for your viewers. 

“And nobody wants that, right?” your words are accompanied by a feigned pout as you drag the tip of the riding crop from the valley between your breasts down to your navel, dragging it around it slowly. “But seriously, guys, I need it, so hurry up.”

It’s a ping! that alerts you of a received donation, and you clap your hands in excitement upon seeing the bright red $450 popping up on the screen. 

“Ah, RoguePrince81, thank you so, so much,” you hum with a smile. “Alright, ten spanks for you.”

You turn around and position yourself closer to the camera to give them the perfect view of your ass, but before you’re able to start to deliver ten spanks to it, your boyfriend barges into the room. 

Learning from past mistakes, the camera isn’t recording more than your bed, Aemond’s presence remaining unknown to the viewers. With your microphone not muted, you can’t do more than mouth a ‘five minutes’ to him still standing in the doorframe. 

The pout on his lips is barely there, already gotten used to the way his girlfriend earns her money, though he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. Sighing quietly, he closes the door behind him and sits down in the chair at your desk across from the bed. 

You barely watch him, focusing back on the audience. One slap after another is served to your ass, and you yet again make a show out of it by moaning, squirming and wiggling your ass. 

“My butt’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” you whine. After the tenth slap, you rub your asscheeks, sighing an ‘and one for good luck.’ With the eleventh slap, you throw the crop aside.

Five minutes turn into fifteen, and with all your attention on the audience, you don't notice the set jaw and furious gaze of your boyfriend, a blaze of jealousy flickering in his eye. At least not until he stands up to approach you. 

Being quick to mute the chat, you turn towards him, sitting on your haunches and looking up at him. A crease has formed between your brows, knowing that you have kept him waiting for too long. 

It’s a fruitless attempt to calm him as you rub the palms of your hands over his thighs, squeezing them just slightly in the way you know he enjoys. 

“I’m not here to waste my time watching you fuck around with other guys,” he remarks coldly. 

The coldness of his voice makes a shiver run down your spine, a contrast to the heat growing between your legs. As your eyes meet his ice-like gaze, you swallow hard. “I know,” you reply, continuing to brush your hands up and down his thighs. “But you know I need to make money, Aem.”

He scoffs at your response. “You can make money in other ways,” he replies, his hands capturing your wrists tight enough to indicate his disapproval. “You don’t need to show off your body for strangers.”

Your heart is racing now, and you feel a flutter in your chest at his words. But you can’t deny that his possessive side only makes you want him more. “But this way is easy,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s quick and pays well… plus, I enjoy it, you know that.”

Aemond’s nostrils flare ever so slightly at your words, his jaw setting firmly. In one fluid motion, he pulls you up on your feet. He’s tall and strong, and his presence looms over yours. “I do,” he says. “But you’re mine, and I don’t share.”

Running your hands over his chest, you take a step closer and press yourself against him, and he uses the proximity to rest a hand at the back of your neck. “And I’ll only ever be yours.” You start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “But this is just a job, Aem. It doesn’t mean anything.”

His expression betrays no emotion as he regards you, but his grip on your neck tightens. “If this doesn’t mean anything, then this won’t bother you at all,” he states, using his grip to force you towards your desk. He pushes you over it, and with you having relocated all your stuff to film the bed, there’s not much left on it that topples onto the ground. 

Your hands fly to the desk to steady yourself upon impact, a gasp leaving your lips. Your heart rate picks up, your blood thrumming with a mixture of arousal and a hint of fear. The sudden manhandling sends a thrill down your spine. “Aemond,” you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. 

His breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, chest pressing against your back while his arms cage you in. It’s clear he’s the power right now, and it’s making you feel all the more vulnerable under his control. “What?” he asks, his voice soft yet commanding. “Do you want me to stop?”

With your body reacting to his husky voice, your hips press back against his. “No,” you answer softly, looking over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. 

His lips curve into a smug smile. “Good, because I had no intentions of stopping anytime soon,” he replies. Prowling toward the dresser, he grabs the laptop. “This will be the best show they’ve ever seen.”

Several pings! echo off the device, the viewer’s comments filling the chat box with messages you’d die to read right now. Aemond has seen you set everything up plenty of times before, and he knows all too well where to put the laptop so that it doesn’t show anything else than the parts below your faces, and quickly unmutes the chat. 

His outburst is nothing new, he’s confessed his jealousy often enough, but it’s the first time he willingly participates in one of your streams. It’s clear it’s his way to mark his territory, to claim you in front of everyone to show who you belong to, and his possessiveness does little to diminish the fire in your body, the ache between your legs only becoming more prominent. 

His hard bulge presses against your ass as he approaches you again, shoving you against the sturdy desk with his hands gripping your hips. It catches you by surprise and you release a choked moan at it. 

Nimble fingers hook under the thin straps of your thong, pulling it back enough the snaps against your skin have you wincing for real. “You’re even wearing my favorite lingerie, hm?” he taunts, large hands roaming over your asscheeks. “All this for some horny bastards and their dirty money?”

You shiver at his touch and the dominance in his deep voice, too zoned out to give him an answer. His impatience runs thin with how quickly he serves a slap to your ass, palm landing exactly where you have hit yourself before. The pain is sharper, stinging, and causing tears to brim in your eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Gods, well…” you whimper. “I… I have to make my viewers happy.”

“Is that the only thing you care about?” he challenges. “Making them happy? What about making your boyfriend happy, mh?”

Licking your lips, you look at him from over your shoulder again. “You know you’re the only one I care about,” you breathe out. “Only you.”

Aemond’s hand smooths down your back, his touch gentle but firm. “Do they know you belong to me?” he asks, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Nah, fuck this, go on and tell them now.”

“They… they know I have a boyfriend,” you admit. 

But it’s a sharp slap served to your ass that makes your head snap towards the laptop quickly, taking in a shaky breath before you address whoever’s behind the screen. You merely know them by their usernames, RoguePrince81, MrSunfyre, thereal_heir and so on. “I… I belong to my boyfriend,” you say, your voice clear yet laced with a tremble that betrays your submission to him. “And only him.”

Aemond’s hand runs over your asscheek in response, soothing the stinging pain. “That’s right,” he purrs, the possessive tone evident in his voice. “You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing.”

“All yours,” you whisper, though there doesn’t come a reply from him. You merely hear shuffling coming from behind you, and judging by the haste of the sounds, it’s clear he’s desperate and impatient. Aemond enjoys teasing, and maybe even punishing you, but there always comes the point where he can’t take it anymore himself. 

It’s the elongated groan of him that has you pushing your hips back, growing just as impatient and desperate, and it’s the cue for him to tug the lace of your thong aside, easing two of his fingers inside of you. You moan wantonly at that, yet the stimulation doesn’t last long enough for you to truly enjoy it, fingers withdrawing almost immediately after the intrusion. 

With his fingers coated in your arousal, he smears it over the tip of his cock and therefore mixes it with the few beads of precum. His hand glides up and down his cock with ease, before he eventually aligns the tip with your entrance. Sheathing himself inside of you slowly, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of him, you quickly rise on your tiptoes to adapt to his height and make accommodating his size easier, although you’re all but used to it by now. 

A renewed wave of your arousal drips down your thighs at his intrusion, allowing him to slide into you with little to no resistance. As you both moan in unison, yours is slightly muffled by your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, reveling in the slight burn that accompanies the pleasure. 

Aemond seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as his hips thrust into you harshly once as a clear warning. Brushing your sweet spot so expertly, you arch your back like a cat, pushing back against him with another muffled moan making its way past your lips.

“Oh, don’t act all shy now,” he coos, his other hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Let them know how good I’m making you feel.”

His words make you nod meekly, and he takes it as a silent invitation to move, the pace starting slow but becoming much more intense in a matter of seconds until he’s recklessly driving his hips into yours. Aemond is always fairly rough with you, but the jealousy and possessiveness do make it even better. 

A breathless gasp falls from your lips in an attempt to catch your breath through his ruthless pounding, and your fists clench around the edge of the desk again, bracing yourself for the way his cock bullies your sweet spot and drives your whole body back and forth.

“Gods, please… use me,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as you are overwhelmed by the different sensations overcoming your body.  

“Fuck,” he groans. “You like that? You like being used by me while those miserable bastards watch you getting split open by my cock, hm?” His words are punctuated by several harsh thrusts, knocking the air out of your lungs and causing his balls to slap against your sensitive clit, sending shivers down your legs. 

His thighs are heavy as they press into your frame, applying pressure to where your hips meet the edge of the desk. While it hurts, you barely have time to focus on the pain, overwhelmed by the soaring pleasure inside of you. The building tension inside of you spreads through your core, your walls fluttering as furiously as Aemond’s relentless onslaught on your cunt. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. 

“Or what?” he taunts. “You’re gonna come for me already?”

Despite him mocking your despair, he pulls your hips back a little and brings his hand down between your legs, dragging his nimble fingers over your clit to give you the last blow that’s meant to push you over the precipice. Every attempt to give him an answer dies in your throat at the sudden burst of pleasure, your mind hazy and your eyes glossy. 

Parting his legs and slightly bending them at the knees, he curls his hips in a manner that all but forces his cock into you at an angle that has stars dancing across your vision, prolonging the intense orgasm that ripples through your core. The tension you hold in your legs from the position causes them to shake uncontrollably, making your body rely on the firm grip of his hand now resting at your hip.  

His own orgasm nears with how forcefully you clench around and convulse all over him, his pace more erratic as he leans down to press his chest flush against your back, pinning you to the desk and planting a searing kiss to the crook of your neck. His thrusts grow sloppier thanks to the position, but that doesn’t mean they don’t fill you deeply enough anymore. 

Bringing his hand from your hair to the wall in front of the desk, the veins in his hand and arms bulge from the exertion. “That’s it,” he rasps into the crook of your neck. “Be a good girl for me and take everything I give you.” 

“Hm-Hm… yes,” you whimper, pushing back against him. Your body is pressed flatly against the wooden surface of the desk, his weight on top of you not allowing you to take any deep breath – yet the throbbing of his cock inside of you definitely makes up for it. 

A strained groan announces his orgasm, muffled by his lips pressed against your skin. A relieved moan leaves your lips as soon as his twitching cock spends itself inside of your still spasming walls. He keeps thrusting into you, though his thrusts become gentler and even slower than before due to his stamina decreasing, eventually stopping.

It’s unlike Aemond to pull out of you so shortly after, and you wince at the sudden loss, your assaulted core clenching around nothing to adjust to the emptiness. Turning your head to look at him, sweaty and heated cheek pressed to the cold desk, you can’t hide the blissed out expression that’s written all over your face. Aemond prowls towards the set up, picking up the laptop with the camera filming nothing but his chest, still heaving with ragged breaths.  

“Now, did you like that?” he asks as he walks back to you again, obviously speaking to the part of your audience that stayed for the show. “Then you’ll definitely love this.” 

Bending forward slightly, he points the camera to your cunt, blessing the viewers with the sight of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt, running down your folds and quivering thighs. You stay still, too focused on the multiple pings! that bounce off the device, indicating that your little show has earned you a big deal of money.

“Is this the kind of cum show you expected, hm? I bet the fuck not.”

He then abruptly shuts the laptop with a thud, carelessly throwing it onto your bed. 

You push yourself back, standing on wobbly feet as you adjust your thong, holding onto the desk. You turn your head to look at him, the smirk on your lips matching the wicked one on his. “You know you’re gonna be a regular now,” you tease. 

“And I thought you’d never ask.”

[gothicgaycowboy]

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.1k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you make Aemond’s longtime librarian fantasy come to life.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ no minors, fem dom, sub aemond, a cock ring, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, role play (kinda), unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n, edging (m receiving), both reader and aemond are little losers, established relationship, pet names, embarrassing family dinner conversations, a cameo from aemond’s lesbian moms and aegon.

𝙖/𝙣: this was originally going to be the beginning of my kinktober but I didn’t even get a chance to write out any of my other ideas in time. also big thank you to this anon who inspired this fic. hope you enjoy 💋

Up until now you thought you and your boyfriend had no secrets between you, but as it turns out you were wrong.

It started a week ago, you and Aemond drove up the countryside for a weekend to visit his family for Alicent’s birthday. Everyone tried their best to make it up there for big celebrations.

After three years together you feel like a member of the family yourself, Alicent and Rhaenyra even refer to you as their second daughter. You feel more at home with them than you do with your own family — and more importantly you felt like they couldn’t shock you anymore. That lasted until dinner.

Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a tiff about something juvenile that you can’t even remember anymore. Words tossed back and forth at one another from across the table like a tennis match. Rhaenyra was about to interject when Aegon blurted out: “Did you ever tell your sweetheart about what you did with my rag mag?”

Now that caught your attention.

Aemond’s face became beet red. His eyes practically bulged out of his skull in fear. Aegon smiled cockily at his brother’s expression, poking a forkful of their mothers dinner into his mouth.

Alicent and Rhaenyra tried to object to this conversation as soon as the word ‘rag mag’ was tossed out, but were cut short by your boyfriend.

“You wouldn’t.” It was clear Aemond was attempting to sound intimidating when it was obvious to everyone else he was fearing for his life.

“Oh, but I really would.” You vaguely remember overhearing Rhaenyra warn Alicent to cover her ears. Aegon turned his full attention to you, his eyes locked with yours. “When your precious boyfriend was still shorter than me he snuck into my room, snooped through my collection, and ripped out the naughty librarian spread all for himself.”

For the first time since you had met him Aemond became shy. You didn’t quite understand why exactly. Your boyfriend was no saint when it came to sex. He was the one who suggested most of your perverted ventures thus far, so why had he never told you this story himself?

After the table was cleared and conversation changed Aemond popped outside to take a quick smoke break — the perfect opportunity for you to interrogate Aegon a little more. You slid beside him as he washed that night's dishes like the good little son he can be occasionally.

“What was all that about?”

He glanced up at you briefly from the task in front of him. “What was all what about?”

“You know…” you suddenly realised how humiliating it was to talk about sex related topics with your boyfriend's brother. “The magazine drama?”

A knowing smirk crossed the​ Targaryen’s lips. “Ah, you want to know why Aemond threw such a fit about his little secret being outed.” He placed a white salad bowl onto the drying rack before facing you. “Well there are a few theories I have about it — first and most simple of all: maybe he was just embarrassed to have his middle school perversions exposed to our parents. I’m not too convinced by that one though given the simple fact that you two have been fucking at practically every family event you have been invited to thus far.”

It was then your turn for your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, the memory of being caught half naked by Rhaenyra in the shoe closet still haunts you.

“So that leads me to my second theory: he’s ashamed of you knowing about his librarian fetish.”

Your brows pinched together quizzically. “But that doesn’t make any sense, we’ve done way crazier things together than a little kinky roleplay.”

Aegon closed his eyes and let out a long exhale like he was about to be sick. “I can’t express to you how much I didn’t want to know that.” You smiled at him apologetically letting out a timid ‘sorry’.

The purple eyed boy rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes again. “Okay, I’m probably gonna throw up later and really regret asking you this but: have you ever been in charge? Ya know, taken on the reins while you two are…” He held his hand over his stomach dramatically. “Having sex?”

your gaze remained on the clean kitchen floor as you answered his question. “No…”

“Well there you go, now if you’ll excuse me I need to go drink this conversation from my memory.”

Since that night you have been on a mission: make Aemond’s fantasy come to life.

It started like all good missions did — with a bit of thorough research of course. Aemond is a stickler for details and you needed all of them if you were going to pull this off successfully. The magazine from all the detail you managed to pull out of poor Aegon was a Hustler and based on the years Aemond would have been in middle school you managed to comb through every edition of Hustler during that time until you found it: the librarian spread.

This took you to the next step in your plan: the outfit. There wasn’t really much to it, obviously most of it was pulled off the models body in favour of showing off what was underneath, but you focused on what remained. Petite framed glasses, a white button up (tossed aside on the desk she sat on but you figured she was probably wearing it at some point in time), black pencil skirt, stockings, garter belt, and most importantly no panties.

All of this planning and waiting had finally led up to today. You have a day off to get your shit in order and Aemond’s shift ends early. You are quite proud of yourself honestly. Who knew being a research nerd could come in handy in the bedroom?

Now it was just time to see if Aemond appreciates it as much as you do.

From your spot in the kitchen you hear your boyfriend's keys enter the lock to your apartment – your cue to bolt into the bedroom. Inside the bedroom your heart races, nerves suddenly getting the best of you. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thinks you’re trying to belittle him? What if he thinks you look stupid?

“Baby?” Aemond calls from inside the main hallway.

“In the bedroom!” Well there was no going back now. Fuck it. You press play on the playlist you curated and pose yourself sitting on top of Aemond’s desk, just like the picture.

The door creaks open, revealing the white haired man to you. For a second he doesn’t look up, good eye still locked onto his phone. “What’s with the mu–” His eye meets with yours and stops him in his tracks. The bag he is carrying falls off his shoulder. The way he blushed at the birthday dinner has nothing on the state of his face now.

A few long moments pass by and the two of you remain perfectly still. It makes the knot in your stomach worse. “Please say something.” You beg as Aemond remains gobsmacked.

“You– how did – wh – you look–” He babbles like a small child.

“Please make it intelligible.” you try to lighten the mood as your hands play with each other anxiously.

It seems to shake Aemond out of his idiotict trance. “You look like the librarian from my magazine.”

“I do.” You change your tone to sound calm and collected while feeling like you’re about to explode inside.

“Why?”

“I thought you might appreciate it if I initiated something for once.”

Aemond soaks in the vision before him giving you a swift up and down glance. The pit continues growing in you but you refuse to let it show. “Do you?” You ask, impersonating all those sexually confident people you’ve seen in movies.

“I do.” Thank fuck.

Aemond rips the jacket from off his shoulders, practically running across the bedroom to reach you. He pulls you up off the desk but before he has the chance to kiss you you put a stop to him. Both hands push his face away but remain holding it so he’s forced to look at you. “Not so fast there mister.”

His face is priceless, a perfect mixture of confusion and desperation. “From now on I’m in charge, alright? You are going to lay there like the good boy I know you can be, while the sweet little librarian takes good care of you, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” His pupil dilates so wide you can hardly see the usual violet colour of his iris.

“Yes you understand who?”

A surprise smirk graces your boyfriend's beautiful face. “Yes, I understand…ma’am.”

“Good, now take off your clothes and get on the bed.” In a flash Aemond’s clothes came flying off you like you have never seen before. You knew this would get him worked up but you did not expect him to be this into it.

As the Targaryen’s boxers hit the floor and he hits the plush mattress you pull open a bag holding your secret weapon for the night. With the ‘weapon’ hiding behind your back you move up the bed straddling his muscular thigh, sitting your bare cunt directly on his skin. His already hard cock twitches with excitement. “Fuck me, are you not wearing any–?”

“No.” you say plainly, like you did this everyday. “Now I’ve got a little something special for you before I completely blow your mind.”

“I really don’t see this getting better than it is but if you say so,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust you.”

From behind you you reveal it: a black rubber cock ring. “I wanna see you squirm.”

Aemond’s silver-blonde locks splay out onto the pillows as he plops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, woman.” He groans.

“Oh you love it.” With that you wrap your manicured hand around his cock, stretching the black rubber around the base.Your boyfriend jumps slightly at the contact. “How’s it feel?”

“Wonderful, now can we get on with the main event, please?”

“Don’t forget baby, you’re not the one calling the shots tonight. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.”

“Always.” He smiles. You can’t help yourself against his charms, flopping onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. He wastes no time reciprocating it, taking the kiss from zero to a hundred faster than you can snap your fingers. His tongue slithering its way into your mouth. Your moans vibrated against his lips. Aemond was definitely the best kisser out of all the guys you had been with.

You reach your right hand up pushing it between the two of you, separating your lips. Aemond is clearly about to protest as you cut him off. “Spit.” No bullshit, just straight to the point. Based on the focused expression on his face the dots are taking their sweet time to connect in his pretty little head. Then it clicks and Aemond looks like a kid in a candy shop. He leans over your palm, saliva dripping down into your hand.

As the spit sinks across your palm you reach down to rub the wetness around his throbbing cock, stroking him up and down painfully slowly. Your other hand makes its way to his heavy balls, massaging them delicately in between your fingers.

You always loved playing with Aemond’s cock, but you were never allowed to take your time with it. It’s the one thing you despise about your boyfriend constantly being the one in charge. This was your time to truly tease him like he had been teasing you since you got together.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You eye him over the glasses perched on your nose.

“Fuck yes!” Aemond yelps with pure euphoria.

“You kiss your mothers with that mouth?” You continue your teasing, the sound of the shucking filling the bedroom.

“No but I really wanna kiss you again — ma’am.” You appreciate that even though he was struggling through it he still uses your proper title.

“Come here baby.” Like a man starved Aemond pushes himself up to meet your lips once more. Now was your chance. With Aemond distracted by the kiss you slowly pull away your hand from his sack to grab the remote for the cock ring off the dresser. Time to hope he enjoys this little extra surprise.

Bzzz…

Aemonds hips slam up into your fist in shock. “Jesus- fuck!”

“Now you know how I feel, huh?” You say recalling all the times that the blonde had used your vibrators on you.

The vibrations make his rod jump, shaking so fast your eyes can’t even comprehend its moving at all. God it’s hot. It had become far too normal for Aemond to watch you shake and your eyes roll back into your head with ecstasy but never you with him. It makes you feel powerful.

“F-feels so fucking good—” Aemond struggles to be coherent through the throws of pleasure.

Your hands pick up the pace, tightening your grip around him. His eyes are becoming more and more glassy as the moments pass by. Settling down till your stomach touches your knees, skirt (barely) coved ass poking out to the air. You kiss your way down his chest, leaving lipstick marks as you go until you reach the base of his vibrating cock.

Your mind swarms with ideas of how you can possibly torture him, but you decide against anymore prolonged suffering because of how desperately you need him in your mouth. You lick your way up to his leaking tip, keeping eye contact the entire time.

You run your hands over the sides of his hips as you suck the tip into your mouth. Preparing yourself with a deep breath through your nose, you dive down, deepthroating the rest of him into your throat. The tip of your nose touched the smooth base of his pubic bone. He always filled your holes so perfectly.

The sounds of your throat bobbing over him mixed with muted vibrations and Aemond’s moans make your cunt pulsate. You and Aemond are not new to dirty but something about this type of dirty got you going in a way you have never felt before.

“I’m gonna come—fuck! I’m gonna come down your perfect throat—” That is all you need to hear to pull yourself away from him (as much as you hate to).

Wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth you press the button on the remote of the cock ring, turning the vibrations off. Aemond whines like a scorned child. A sound you're not familiar with from him, but you could picture yourself getting used to.

“Did you really think that I was going to let you come that fast? I need to make you earn it first, baby.”

He looks up at you, begging. “How? Please just tell me how I’ll do anything, I just need to be inside you. I wanna be your good boy.” His voice cracks like he’s on the brink of tears.

“You have to address me properly.”

“Anything for you ma’am.”

“Now, beg.” You tug the base of his cock into your hands, jerking him off like you were in no rush.

“Please…?” His brows knit together like a kicked puppy.

You halt your movements and grip your boyfriend’s length, not enough to actually hurt him, just enough to make Aemond whine once more. “God do you even want me to fuck you? I said beg.” You say while pulling the almost sheer white top from your body, leaving the skirt and stockings in their place though.

“Please fuck ma’am? I promise I’ll be good for you, I need to be inside of you so bad. I love your cunt so much, I need it around me. I need to feel you come on me, please?”

“Aw, look at that, you are my good boy after all.” With that you are fully on top of him. Hands planted onto his firm chest while you lean forward to tug your skirt up, revealing the lack of underwear beneath them. With his eyes thoroughly distracted by your bare cunt you pull his aching tip inside of your soaking wet entrance.

You had sex not two days before now but somehow the stretch of Aemond inside was still a shock to your system. Maybe it’s because you had never had him like this, crying below you like just being inside you was already the greatest pleasure he could experience.

“Jesus—Christ!”

You take your time adjusting to him, gradually sinking lower towards his abdomen. Your clit grazes the black silicone, alerting you that you’ve reached the bottom. Pushing yourself all the way back up to his tip you slam down as you speak. “Did all that begging make your cock harder, Aem? Do you like begging for me?”

“So much…” The words are almost inaudible through his moans.

“You don’t come until I let you, understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

It only eggs you on more. The sound of wet skin smacking and whimpering fill your ears. No thoughts pass through either of your heads.

The rocking of your hips became more frantic, desperate. Your soft wet walls hugging your boyfriend like a vice. Aemond’s reach up into the pillows, gripping so hard they change from pink to white instantly.

Your mask begins to fall at the pleasure building in your core. Legs shaking at either side of Aemond’s hips. Just like that you pull the blonde up from his horizontal position, his grip falling from the pillows. Lips crashing together in a blur as sweat pools down both your backs. “I’m so fucking close, can I come, please?” His begging is muffled against your mouth.

“Soon, I promise. Rub my clit for me baby?” He obeyed immediately. His pointer and index finger caressing against your pulsing clit. “Fuck yes! so good Aem.” Your hands wander to his hair, like you are the master and he’s your little puppet.

You can’t hold back anymore, the sensation of his lips against yours mixed with Aemond’s precise movements against your bud send you hurdling towards your orgasm. “M’coming, come for me aem, do it for me baby—” Aemond follows fast behind you, crying out your name as he reaches his peak. His cock painting your insides with his cum.

You come back down to earth together, a jumble of words spilling from both of your lips: I love you, thank you, so good, kiss me.

You collapse into a puddle on your boyfriend’s sweat soaked chest. His fingers travel through your hair as you both catch your breath. As he tucks the lock behind your ears he finally speaks coherently. “So, are you gonna tell me how you managed to replicate the exact outfit from the original photo I used to wank off to or…?”

You smile, lifting your head to face him and his pink flushed cheeks. “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”

[ficsiveread68]

I just want to hug him all better! But like from a distance so he doesn't freak out

Glass Cuts Deepest (8)

[ professor! • Aemond x student! • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, smut, masturbation, kissing, fluff, angst, trauma, mention of rape, indecent student-teacher relationship ]

[ description: A female painting student is finally able to choose the specialisation she has dreamt of - stained glass. She wants to become a student of the best specialist in this field, but he, for some reason, refuses to accept female students into his workshop. She finds out that he once slapped a female student of one of the other professors. Nevertheless, she makes an attempt to find out what happened then and to convince him to teach her. Slow burn, sexual tension, dark, agressive Aemond, great childhood traumas. ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After what had happened between them, after he had touched her cheek, her hand, her hair, after he had kissed her neck, felt the warmth of her body pressed against his, he had the feeling that his mind was too overstimulated to think, let alone put together any meaningful sentences.

Throughout the day, he tried to pretend that he hadn't glanced at her at all, looking for any sign of fear or disgust towards him, however, his female student's face expressed nothing but peace and warm contentment, a smile on her face, her eyes shining.

He couldn't believe that she wanted this too.

That she was reciprocating his weakness, his affection.

After everything that had happened to him it seemed strange and even suspicious that he was suddenly feeling so many hot emotions all at once, which at the same time were not unpleasant, his heart pounding like crazy every time she caught him in the act of glaring at her and he turned away immediately, embarrassed.

All he could think about was that he would come to her again in the evening.

That he would touch her again, if she would only let him.

He felt overwhelmed by how many things he felt at once.

Joy, peace, tenderness, longing, fear, uncertainty, shame.

He thought he should tell her about his plans, that he wanted to leave the university as soon as Cregan got his habilitation, that he had no intention of exposing her to defamation or hurtful rumours, that she had earned her place in his workshop through his bed.

He tried to explain to himself that they hadn't really done anything wrong, that their touch was innocent, but he knew that wasn't true − he could feel how intensely his body and hers reacted to their closeness and he realised that if it wasn't for his trauma and what had happened to him, if it wasn't for his inner blocks, if he was a normal man, he would have fucked her all night.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to imagine such things or recall how hard he had come from fucking himself with his own hand in the shower immediately after he had returned to his room in the morning, unable to bear the tension any longer.

He tried not to think about how he jerked off, imagining how helplessly and sweetly she would moan feeling him inside her, how hard his fingers would sink into her soft flesh.

He tried, but failed utterly, and was ashamed that his thoughts still fled to these areas even as he sat before the bishop himself, incapable of any concentration.

He froze, however, swallowing loudly, feeling an unpleasant chill and sting in his heart when he saw Wright and Cregan cast communicative and warm glances at each other − Stark winked at her, and her eyes lit up.

He thought with some kind of pain and disappointment that they had always gotten along well, that it was Cregan who had asked him to take her in, intercede on her behalf and make sure he was fair to her.

When she returned her gaze to him she blinked, clearly seeing the look on his face, and he thought his friend deserved her more than he did.

He had been good to her, had appreciated her from the start, had treated her with respect and kindness, and on top of that he was not burdened as he was by trauma, aggressive behaviour and this strange, terrible need to self-destruct.

He thought as they drove back to the hotel, looking at her in the mirror, that perhaps he should step back, give her space to form a different, healthier relationship that also wouldn't be viewed so harshly by others, as Cregan was only his adjunct and had no real influence over her grades.

She deserved more than he could give her.

He decided, taking a quick shower, that he would go to her for just a moment, try to probe whether perhaps she and Cregan did not really have something in common and, if she showed doubt, encourage her to choose him.

He recognised that towards her he didn't want to be selfish.

That she meant something more to him.

He knocked on her window while standing there in his black Tshirt and black sweatpants, figuring he'd be right back in his room anyway, furious that his heart was pounding so hard, that he was so tense and scared.

He swallowed loudly when he heard her footsteps on the other side. Her balcony door opened and he saw her happy face, a warmth in her gaze from which he felt his heart squeeze.

He craved that look so much.

She invited him inside and sat down on her bed, looking at him contentedly. He stood in the middle of the room not knowing what to do, how to ask the question that pressed against his lips, feeling that he shouldn't be here at all, that she was his student and he should protect her good name, that he had been irresponsible.

"It's okay. Sit down." She said softly, patting the spot a short distance away seeing how tense he was.

He hesitated for a moment and then decided that he really shouldn't be standing like this, so he sat down on her bed, leaning against the backrest. He didn't look at her but ahead, placing his hands on his stomach, breathing hard, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest.

"If you want, I'll leave." He said in a serious, matter-of-fact voice, feeling that all possible phobias and his worst assumptions were taking over him.

He heard her twist next to him in her seat, startled − out of the corner of his eye he could see the outline of her bare thighs and her hand lying in front of her, which was playing with the fabric of her duvet in a nervous gesture.

"I don't want to. Even though I know it reflects badly on me." She said quietly with some kind of embarrassment. He looked at her surprised, feeling pain at the thought that she was blaming herself for this situation, for the fact that someone might perceive her badly because of it, where he was solely to blame.

"On you? I'm the one pushing myself into my own student's bed." He said with a regret and pain that startled him, feeling that he had expressed everything that frightened and suffocated him in that one sentence.

He dared to glance at her and saw that she was looking at him with concern, there was no condemnation or discomfort in her gaze.

"I don't take it that way. I mean…what I said about you today is true. I don't think that - unlike other professors − you would treat me better or more kindly than my colleagues − and I don't want that either." She said calmly, lowering her eyes, trailing her fingers across the bedclothes. He felt a kind of pleasant warmth and relief that she really did see him that way, that she believed he would be able to remain fair and objective.

He swallowed loudly and hummed under his breath in agreement with her, sighing quietly, not knowing what he should reply to her words, embarrassed and abashed at the same time.

He saw that she extended her hand to him in exactly the same gesture as the day before, and he felt an overwhelming urge to touch her, at least this one last time.

He moved a little closer to her with a pounding heart, taking her hand in his. They laid them on the bedding between them and played with each other's fingers − he felt the shivers on his cheeks and the pulsing under his sweatpants, he couldn't stop thinking about how soft her skin was.

"You and Cregan. What is that about?" He muttered more dryly and coldly than he would have liked, unable to hide what he felt, what he thought, what he feared.

As soon as he said the words he thought he was a mere idiot, that he had no right to ask her such things.

He couldn't look her in the eye.

He heard her twist restlessly, her fingers stroking the top of his hand in some reassuring, affectionate gesture.

"I like him a lot. He has been a huge support to me in difficult times. He's a good friend and a good teacher." She said quietly, and he felt a wave of disappointment, a tightening in his stomach at the thought that his assumption had been confirmed, that they were close and perhaps this would have developed more if he hadn't come between them.

"However, if he were the one to ask if he could touch my cheek or grab my hand, I would refuse him. I have no desire to be close to him in that way." She whispered, and he felt his pupil dilate, his heart begin to pound like mad in disbelief that she had said that.

I have no desire to be close to him in that way.

He looked at her and saw, shocked, that she was embarrassed, her gaze lowered, her face warm with emotion. She sat beside him so close, so calm, so soft, telling him that he was wrong, that it was his closeness she craved.

He grasped her cheek in his palm forcing her to look at him and without thinking much, he pressed his lips to hers, terrified and craving her closeness, her acceptance, the feeling that she wanted him, that she desired him as much as he desired her.

He pulled away with a loud click, delighted by how swollen, plump and wet her lips were, looking at her face, wanting to see if he had allowed himself too much. He felt heat ripple through his chest seeing her misty gaze, her warm eyes, her lips parted invitingly.

"− please −" She whispered, stroking the skin of his palm with her thumb, and he sank into her lips again, clinging to their soft structure, sucking and massaging them between his own with a loud, sticky click, sighing with delight each time he turned his head to sunk into her flesh once more, feeling how shyly she reciprocated his caresses.

He got completely hard and was scared of what could happen next.

He pulled away from her with difficulty, looking at her with a hot, absent gaze, hearing that they were both breathing heavily. He stroked her cheek and grunted, thinking only of the fact that he was sure his plan would fail and he certainly wouldn't be going back to his room tonight.

He swallowed loudly when she smiled, feeling embarrassed at the thought that perhaps she was amused by his desperation and how obvious his desire was.

"I feel like when I was in high school, when my female friends would hide in the toilets with their boyfriends during breaks to kiss them for at least a moment, to have a moment of privacy. It feels so good." She said lightly, and he felt instantly relieved at the thought that, in her case, his catastrophic assumptions were unlikely to come true.

She wasn't mocking him, laughing at him, nor exploiting him or his weaknesses.

He had wondered how experienced she was in relationship or intimate matters. He wanted to ascertain how great the gap was between them and whether, in the long run, she would be able to show as much patience towards him in these matters as he needed.

He lowered his gaze, his free hand tracing his chin in a nervous gesture.

"And you…what experience do you have? In relationships." He asked uncertainly. He heard her swallow uncomfortably, her body tensing all over − his fingers slid down to her hand lying on the duvet between them and stroked it with a light, reassuring gesture.

"I have only been in one serious relationship, but it was serious only for me. At the time I thought I was very much in love, but now I think I didn't love the real man, but my idea of him. He was with me and I think he cared about me in some way, but he still loved the girl he was with before." She said with sadness and fatigue, as if the mere mention of it made her feel powerless.

He felt discomfort at the thought of her, loving someone before him, lying in the arms of another men.

Her words struck him, with what calmness and understanding she spoke of a man who had clearly never really reciprocated her feelings.

"I think she was simply the love of his life. I saw it in the look in his eyes when we were on a class trip and he picked a flower from a bush and slipped it into her hair. That's when something inside me snapped, and even though he told me it didn't mean anything, I knew I was just a substitute." She said quickly, as if afraid that one more word and she would cry. He saw her press her lips together without looking at him, her eyes red, her lower lip trembling slightly.

He thought sadly that although their experiences were extremely different and incomparable, she too had endured some kind of humiliation, she too had been used, she too had been the victim of someone's selfishness.

"He took everything from you even though he knew he would never give you the same thing in return." He said dryly, summing up what he had heard.

He saw that she clenched her eyes as if his words had caused her pain and then, to his surprise, she stood up abruptly and headed for the bathroom, saying that she needed to calm down and that she would be right back.

She didn't want him to watch her cry after what he told her yesterday.

He felt discomfort and remorse at the thought that he had put her in a situation where she felt she could not confide in him or suffer in front of him in fear that he would accuse her of weakness again.

He said it then only because he didn't want her compassion.

"Wait." He called out after her, standing up quickly, grabbing her wrist and stopping her.

He swallowed loudly, seeing that she wasn't looking at him, not wanting him to see her face red with tears, that she hadn't been able to stop it, that she was vulnerable.

He put her hands on his chest and she looked up at him, surprised that he had allowed her this kind of closeness. He could feel his heart pounding hard − he had not let any woman touch his torso since that event, he had not allowed even his own mother to embrace him.

He looked down at her, trailing his eyes over her face, thinking only about the fact that she was like a revelation to him, like a cure, a rescue, that he had the feeling that when he woke up this morning he was a different man, that something inside him had cracked, changed.

The poison began to drain from his body and his veins were filled with something different, hot, desired.

Affection.

"For me, you are like Eve in Eden, who appeared beside me as a godsend." He whispered in a trembling voice, knowing how pathetic it sounded, how piteous his words were. He knew it, but this confession flowed out of him naturally, spontaneously.

There was none before her.

There would be none after her.

He did not want to accept any other female students in future years into his workshop.

He didn't want any other women once he left the university and opened his own studio.

He didn't need the praise of other women, the good opinion of other women, the favourable glances of other women, let alone the touch of other women.

He wanted her.

He saw her draw in the air loudly, her lips parted slightly, her eyes looking at him in disbelief, something in her gaze from which he felt heat rising inside his heart.

Tenderness.

"The same Eve who brought Adam his downfall?" She muttered in a broken, uncertain voice and he involuntarily smirked and chuckled, stroking her hands resting on his chest with his palms.

"Are we sure she was to blame? Maybe it was Adam who brought the fall on her. Maybe Adam and Satan were the same person. Maybe the fruit the Bible speaks of was between her lips −" He breathed out, one hand gripping her wrists to keep her hands in one place, the other gripping the nape of her neck and drawing her to him, unable to stop himself from tasting her again, their kiss hot, sticky and soft, her lips parted against his in a gesture of complete submission.

He shuddered as he felt her hands tighten on the fabric of his t-shirt, felt his manhood pulsing painfully hard in his trousers, felt that his words were arousing her, that his vision was making her melt in his arms.

He thought with satisfaction, kissing her more and more greedily with the lewd click of their saliva, that she was giving up control to him, trusting him, letting him touch and caress her as he saw fit, exploring touch in a form he had not yet known, one that gave pleasure not only to him but to her as well.

He drew in the air loudly, from her neck lifting his hand up, clamping it on her hair, their lips sucking each other in a sticky, wet dance.

"− maybe the juice of that fruit was on her tongue −" He exhaled, timidly teasing and licking her tongue with the tip of his own. He heard her moan loudly, her hands clenched into fists on his t-shirt, her whole body trembling − he could feel how hot she was, how fast she was breathing.

His length pulsed every time their tongues licked each other with a loud, shameless click, the taste of her saliva spreading across his palate making him slowly lose control, feeling his head humming, focusing only on her reactions, her scent, her lips, her body.

"− or deep between her thighs −" He murmured and slowly slid his trembling hand that he had tightened on her wrists downwards, trusting her completely, just wanting to see how she would react, whether she craved that kind of touch or not, whether she suffered down there as much as he did.

He ran his fingers tentatively over the material of her shorts between her thighs and was surprised at the sweet, startled sound she made right into his mouth, felt her hips begin to rub against his hand in a desperate, desire-filled motion.

"− oh God −" She mumbled, and he involuntarily smiled under his breath, feeling satisfaction and pride at being able to watch her reactions, seeing that he was giving her pleasure, his fingers pressing the spot she was trying to rub against him harder and harder, stroking her up and down, her breathing sped up and became more erratic.

He wondered if she was already wet there.

Was she thinking about wanting to feel him inside her.

"− tell me to stop −" He breathed out, wanting to let her know that he could stop at any time, that she had total control over what he was doing. She, however, only cried at his words helplessly, clenching her eyes, searching for any source of more intense rubbing in his hand.

"− please − please − please − please, touch me there −" She mewled in shame, as if she knew she shouldn't be asking him to do that, and yet all he felt at her words was a painful pulsing in his trousers and heat in his chest.

He pressed his forehead against hers, looking down, panting loudly along with her, breaking the kiss for a moment.

"− are you sure? −" He asked in a trembling, low voice, and she nodded.

He drew in a loud breath, feeling his heart pounding like mad, and brushed her lips with light, soothing kiss while with gentle movement he lifted his hand and slowly slid it under her underwear, searching her womanhood with his fingers.

As he touched her where she wanted him to, they both cried out loud with surprise and arousal − he couldn't believe how wet she was, sticky all over with her moisture, her flesh there incredibly soft and hot, surprisingly matching his image of the fruit of Eden.

"− oh fuck − God − you're leaking −" He gasped in a trembling voice as if he couldn't believe he was really touching her there, that she really did desire him so desperately.

He had seen endless pornographic films, but nothing had ever aroused him like what he felt and saw now, as he touched her so shamelessly, every slide of his fingers accompanied by the wet click of her moisture and her quiet cry of pleasure − her lips found his again, their kisses messy and filled with their loud gasps.

"− please − up there − gently − oh, God, yes −" She mewled, writhing in front of him, rubbing with the movement of her hips against his fingers as he finally discovered puffy bud between her folds, as she requested, rubbing her gently, just as he had seen in the movies, with circular, slow movements.

He could feel that something was happening to her and he had never desired anyone as much as he did her at that moment, helpless, in complete disarray, whining into his mouth, apologising to him and begging for fulfilment at the same time, his hand all sticky from her moisture, her underwear all wet.

He was surprised at how confident he felt and couldn't think of anything else but the fact that he wanted her to come on his fingers.

"− indeed your skin there is like the flesh of a fruit − sticky, soft and wet − fuck, you'll let me taste you there one day, won't you? − let me taste the forbidden fruit with my tongue −" He gasped, slipping his tongue between her lips, licking her teasingly.

He looked at her in shock and groaned loudly as he felt her moisture spill over his fingers − he hugged her close hearing her helpless sobs of pleasure, the quivering of her body, her hips rising and falling against his hand. He was unable to believe what he had just seen, what he had just experienced.

She came from his words alone, from his kisses and the touch of his fingers.

"− oh God − oh baby − so much flowed out from you − oh fuck −" He mumbled out in a trembling voice feeling like his cock was about to explode with desire.

He wondered for a moment, panting along with her, if he was going to cum just by looking at her and touching her like that.

He restrained himself with the remnants of his strong will recognizing that it would be a truly pathetic sight and he would have to change his fucking trousers.

"− I − I'm going to go wash my hands − okay? − I'll be right back −" He whispered quickly, kissing her hair tenderly and she just nodded, unable to say anything as if she was in a completely different world.

He let her go and locked himself quickly in the bathroom, turning on the water, willing it to deafen what he was about to do; he slipped his trousers off quickly, massaging himself over her toilet with quick, aggressive movements, imagining that he was fucking her when she was so wet, when it would be so easy to slide into her, when she would moan under him in pleasure as she had just done.

He came embarrassingly fast, swallowing with difficulty the sounds that ripped themselves from his throat, panting with relief, pressing his heated forehead against the cold tiles.

He swallowed with difficulty and cleaned up after himself, bringing himself to order, and finally washed his hands, sticky from her moisture and his semen − he thought that never before in his life while watching any pornographic video had he come as hard as he did now after what he had seen.

He left her bathroom embarrassed, turning off the light behind him, unable to look at her, knowing that he had been there too long, that she must have guessed what he was doing.

He walked over to the bedside lamp and turned it off, just wanting to snuggle into her body and fall asleep, tired and fulfilled. He laid down on the bed behind her and embraced her with his arm like he had the day before, placing his hand on her wrists, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Is everything okay? Do you feel well?" He asked quietly, wanting to know if he had hurt her, if she regretted what they had done.

"Yes, and you?" She asked softly, he felt her fingers stroke the skin of his palm gently. He murmured contentedly, closing his eyes, strangely relaxed and calm.

"I haven't felt better in years."

He let her turn around facing him and put her hands as before, on his shirt, hugging her face to his chest, pressing his cheek to the top of her head, stroking her hair and her back with his fingers.

He felt he wanted to tell her.

"In two years' time I hope that Cregan will finish his habilitation and be able to take my place. I'm tired of what's going on at the university, of everyone still judging me by who I want in my workshop and who I don't, how I behave, how I look, how I talk. I want to open my studio." He said quietly, as if he was afraid to say it out loud, ashamed of his desires, of his own fatigue and exhaustion.

He felt her move, surprised, swallowing hard, clasping her hands on his shirt.

"Will you leave?" She whispered in a trembling voice, and he kissed her hair again, wanting to soften her question and soothe her, knowing what she was thinking.

"Yes. I don't want to be like Jason. Do you understand what I mean?" He said quietly, his lips pressed against the top of her head, the scent of her shampoo filling his lungs wonderfully.

He felt so wonderfully peaceful.

The way a man feels when he makes the right decision.

"I don't want you to do this because of me. You are a good teacher. All your students respect you tremendously once they get to know you fully." She said in a trembling, breaking voice, and he felt a tightening in his heart.

He sighed quietly, tracing his fingers down her spine, even through her t-shirt feeling that shivers went through her with every movement of his hand.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time, even before I met you. I'm tired. I don't want to force myself to work in the company of strange women. I don't want to have to explain myself again to the rector or other professors. I want to hire Cregan and some of my other students who I think have talent. I will be happy if they want to work with me. If you want to." He whispered, pressing his nose against her hair and heard her swallow loudly, moving closer to him, her cheek nestled against his chest.

"I still can't do much." She whispered, tracing her fingers along the material of his shirt. "I don't want you to hire me or make things easier for me just because…"

They were silent for a moment, both of them just hugging each other − he was lying with his face snuggled into the top of her head and his eyes closed, thinking about what he wanted to say to her.

"I'm not going to make anything easy for you. You're going to have to earn this place. I just want you to know that the door to my workshop will always be open to you − whether its for an employee or a visitor." He said softly and felt her move, in some sudden, subconscious movement wanting to put her hands on his back and hug him.

He grabbed her wrists quickly feeling his heart pounding fast, swallowing loudly.

"No. Please, don't embrace me. Okay?" He asked quietly, feeling some kind of pain and regret that he couldn't get over his fear and discomfort at the thought that someone might touch him, take away his control, surround him.

He didn't want to force himself to do anything, recognising that the last two days had been a turning point for him and he knew that a rush or one gesture that he would feel was wrong could undo everything.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She mumbled in pain, but he hushed her, kissing her hair tenderly with a murmur of satisfaction and appreciation as she immediately returned to her previous position, trailing his fingers down her back.

"− it's okay −" He whispered, pressing his lips to her hair again and again, inhaling with closed eyes the scent of her shampoo, thinking only of how much she trusted him by allowing him to touch her so shamelessly, how much she exposed herself to him while he still remained closed.

"− can I kiss you goodnight? −" She asked softly and he hummed under his breath, pulling away, letting her lift her head. Their noses brushed and after a moment their lips found each other in a sticky, lingering, hot kiss.

One kiss turned into two and then three, his manhood pulsed again, making him swallow loudly and pull away from her.

"− we need to get some sleep tonight −" He whispered, kissing her forehead, and she sighed quietly, apparently feeling, as he did, a pleasant, warm, tickling of desire. He stroked her hair, closing his eyes. "− we'll finish what we started tomorrow −"

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[lonelymagpies]

Drawn modern Aemond at the pool back in June and then forgot him there till summer’s ending 🫠

[adragonprinceswhore]

Make You Feel My Love I Teaser

Aemond Targaryen x Ex-Girlfriend

Summary: A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), obsession, stalking, exhibitionism, blackmail, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, smut

A/N: Based on this request by anon. Another spooky fic for the spooky season! 🖤

Aemond’s fingers tap restlessly against the rim of his coffee cup. The twitch in the corner of his mouth tells you he's annoyed, and the speed of which his eye darts around the coffee shop, refusing to look directly at you, lets you know it’s your fault.

You’re not sure if he can see the tears shining in your eyes, he’s barely looked at you since you came. He always saw crying as a sign of a weak mind, and so you do your best not to blink, scared a tear will fall and reveal just how pathetic you feel.

It’s not like you’re doing a good job hiding it anyway. The dark circles under your eyes and the paranoid pleading in your gaze betray all your recent troubles.

“I-, I’d like to thank you for coming here after how things… ended”

Your voice is steady, yet there is a thickness in your throat that makes you sound a bit strange, like you’re trying too hard to remain neutral. A performance you’re not quite pulling off, despite your best efforts.

“Mm”

He’s still not looking at you, stern face reflecting both disinterest and agitation. The relentless tapping of his finger continues, practically screaming at you to hurry up and confess why you asked your ex to meet up.

“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday, I received a video of… us. At that party where we-”, you search his face for recognition, chase his eye so it meets yours. Your voice lowers, practically a whisper,

“-you know”

“No, I don’t”

“Aegon’s summer party… We snuck off to the guest room and-, you know”

Aemond finally lets his gaze meet yours, inspecting your features with a narrowed, suspicious eye.

Does he not believe you?

Before he can call you crazy, or dismiss your clear distress with a condescending laugh, you pull out your phone and show him the video. It’s a bit dark and gritty, but it’s clear that it’s the two of you, Aemond’s head between your legs, your own thrown back on the bed in bliss.

“Do-, do you know who could’ve done this?”

Aemond takes your phone and watches the video closely, pausing and zooming in on your half-naked body. He’s seen you bare and crazed with desire countless times when you were dating, yet your cheeks heat up and you feel unexplainably vulnerable as he carefully examines the video.

After a few moments of contemplation, he hums again and hands your phone back,

“I’ve no clue. I’ll ask Criston for the guest list, probably just one of Aegon’s insufferable friends having a laugh”

He stands to leave, and you momentarily panic at the thought of being alone again. Just as he turns towards the door, your hand desperately grabs the fabric of his coat, and those tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes do just that,

“Aemond, please, I have more”

You sound so small. So defeated.

He looks at you with the same harsh, unimpressed look even as you silently cry.

So cold.

Maybe it’s what you deserve?

“I need you, Aemond. Please just stay for a few more minutes and let me explain”

He’s frozen for a while, contemplating whether he should indulge you or leave, surely eager to dismiss you just as you had done to him, only a few months ago.

With a sigh, his features soften somewhat, and he steps back, once again taking the seat opposite you.

Full fic coming on November 1st!

[aemondwhoresworld]

⚠️ hotd s2 spoiler

Aemond Targaryen — House Of The Dragon S2E1

[lionneee]

The Enemy

Masterlist

Taglist

English is not my first language, please be kind

Modern!MafiaBoss!Aemond x Ex!Fem!Reader

•Warnings: smut, taking of sexual themes, murder, non-con, knife play, mention of killing someone.•

“Yeah, baby —“ He breathed out as he moaned, looking down as you circled your hips against his cock. He slapped your ass and gripped your hips tightly, stopping your movements to start pointing into you from behind again, fast and hard, like he loves it.

“Baby — Yes, fuck me —“ You moaned as you arched your back, burying your face in the mattress.

“Fuck, baby —“ He growled as he squeezed your hips, his fingers digging in your skin as he thrusted faster, close to the end. You moaned louder as you started rubbing your clit, wanting to finish with him.

“Let me —“ He panted as he leaned down and slipped a hand between your legs, his fingers taking the place of yours, rubbing your clit furiously, making you aware of how close he really was.

“Fill me up —“ You moaned as you panted, trying to jerk your hips, moving them back to meet his thrusts.

“I’m going to, baby —“ He moaned as he moaned in your ear. “You’ll be fucking leaking -“ He moaned again, the image his words created in both your mind making you come on the spot.

You let yourself fall down on the mattress of his door room bed. 

Aemond sat back on his haunches, slipping carefully out of you, looking at his cum slowly leaking out of you.

You smile, satisfied as Aemond laid behind you, wrapping his arm around your middle, pulling you back against his chest as he smiled, kissing your shoulder sweetly.

“I love you so much.” He mumbled against your skin. You smiled even more as you caressed his arm with your hand.

“I love you too.” You hummed as you looked back at him, your lips joining immediately in a soft, slow kiss.

The room’s silence was broken by a harsh knock at the door, followed by Aemond’s sigh, a mix of amusement and annoyance.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be quiet next time.” Aemond exclaimed, raising his head towards the door.

You chuckled as you heard a string of curses from outside.

Aemond’s room-neighbor had complained already about the volume you kept during sex, just like this time.

All of you knew this wasn't the last time he would be coming.

Your last years at college was almost to an an end, but you and Aemond planned to fuck in these dorms a few more times.

It was memories like that that kept Aemond going in the prison.

He missed his girl.

He had been completely inebriated by her since the first time she saw her. She was sweet, soft, caring and gentle, something he had barely known in his life.

She was also funny, a bit sassy and beautiful.

She was also the sister to his number one rival family.

After his father’s death, the business went all in his hand, his father knew he was the best for the inheritance.

But he didn’t care. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the mafia world, she wanted to stay out of it, and her brother was more than happy to let her.

It was just the two of them, her, and her brother Cregan, whose parents died in an accident during work.

Their relationship had to be a secret.

She knew her brother would have never allowed her to date him, and he had to keep his reputation solid and fearful.

She didn’t ask about his job, he didn’t tell her about it, they went on dates, they had sex, Gods, a lot of sex, and they just… lived their life.

That, until Cregan found out.

“You stay out of this!” Cregan shouted at her, as she sobbed, her back pressed against the wall of her house.

Cregan had a broken lip, his cheek was red, and probably there would have been a nasty bruise the day after. 

Both him and Aemond were painting as they stood in front of each other, looking at each other like lions ready to fight.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Aemond quickly scolded Cregan, taking a step towards her. Cregan pulled out a gun and pointed it to him.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t take another step.” He growled.

“Cregan no!” She sobbed desperately, her face red, her cheeks completely wet, her eyes full of pain. “Please I love him!” She was begging him.

“No! I let you live your life, I gave you everything, I protected you, took care of you! And this is how you repay me?!” His voice was louder than thunder, and his face was scary.

She had never seen her brother like that, so furious.

“I didn’t choose to love him!” She sobbed back, her voice strained and weak.

“I don’t care! I don’t fucking care, you’re coming with me.” Cregan said as he grabbed her wrist, tugging her towards himself, his gun still pointing at Aemond, but he didn’t care.

Aemond took another step forward, but then Cregan raised his gun from his chest to his head, his eyes on him, his expression pure coldness.

She screamed and squirmed in the arms of her brother, trying desperately to reach for the gun, or Aemond.

“You won’t see her again. I swear to God if you try I’ll make your head blow with one of my bullets.” 

Aemond couldn’t fight more that day.

But he was going to get his revenge.

And his girl back.

“Dinner!” The guards shouted as they hit the metal doors of all the rooms with their sticks. Aemond grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose, the sound giving him an annoying headache, just like every morning.

He sighed and stood up, he washed his face in the sink and tied his hair back into a ponytail as his roommates got up too.

As the leader of the Targaryen family, he had a lot of friends here.

He was protected, not even the guards dare to touch him.

He guessed it was thanks to the nasty scar on his face.

And his name.

He took a deep breath as he leaned his head back, closing his eye.

“You’re so pretty.” Her naked body was laying beside him, her soft fingers were caressing his scarred cheek, her eyes fixed on the stone in his eye socket.

“You’re saying that out of pity.” He grunted as he turned his gaze from the ceiling to her.

“I’m not. I love your face. I could stare at you for hours.” She smiled as she bit her lip, her hand moving to caress his hair.

“Such a creep.” He huffed a laugh as he turned his body to the side to look at her better. He moved his hand to her breasts, looking at how her nipples perked at the mere touch of his fingers, how her breath would always hitch.

“Do you really think so?” He looked back up at her face. She smiled softly and nodded, caressing his face again.

“Gevie.” That words, his native language coming from her mouth was a massive turn on for him. He immediately crashed his lips against her and pulled her body close to him.

“Issa rūs.” He growled.

-My baby.-

Aemond shook his head to get himself back together, then he walked out of his cell to walk with all the other prisoners to the eating room.

He was always among his people every step he took, in his room, at his table, at his chores.

He rarely was alone.

The few times he was, he fucked his hand like a wild animal until it would be covered in cum.

All for her.

He always did everything for her.

“Cregan?” He could hear her voice through his phone, they spy hidden in her brother’s office offering a live audio of her voice.

Her sobs.

“Cregan?!” She shouted as she kept crying. 

He closed his eyes as he listened to her sobs. He could almost see her, kneeled beside the body of his brother.

At the moment, Cregan’s body counted three bullets.

He did it for her.

So they could get back together, live together.

God he had missed her so much.

He was tired of jerking off on her nudes, he needed the real thing.

“Cregan!” She shouted as she kept crying desperately. He heard some ruffling, something falling on the floor.

“My brother is dead!” She shouted. “M-my… Aemond Targaryen did it.”

He did it for her.

And she put him in handcuffs.

Days were long without her, and even more without anything about her body.

At least he managed to get one of her thongs in there.

But the scent almost faded.

“The plan is set, boss.” Jason, his left arm in the prison, said.

Aemond gave one nod as he looked down at his food.

Escape prison was easy.

He didn't do it earlier because he knew she needed time to recover from his brother’s death before she could focus back on him.

Placing a few pieces of evidence that would lead away from him and make up an alibi was like stealing candy from a baby.

His trial process was easy to finish, after all, they didn’t have true evidence that he killed Cregan, and his alibi was firm.

Turned out to be easier than ever.

With a smirk on his face he walked out of the front door of the prison, his jumpsuit replaced with a pair of black jeans and a black sweater.

He looked at his driver and got in the car.

“Let’s go get her.” He said as he made himself comfortable.

It was night when he broke into her house.

Actually, broke in was an euphemism, he owned the place.

She was living with his money, and she didn’t even know it.

He saw her on her bed. Her hair messy on the pillow, her mouth half open.

Her body was covered by the blanket.

She was beautiful.

He walked closer to her, caressing her face softly as he looked down at her sleeping form. 

She had always been a deep sleeper, it was hard to wake her up.

He was happy to learn it when he had a little something to take care of, one of the nights she slept at his house.

He slowly handcuffed one of her wrists, then he pulled her arm up, slowly, carefully, then he raised her other arm, and quickly handcuffed it to the headrest.

He walked slowly on the end of the bed, dragging her blanket with him, smiling as she saw her wearing both but a thin pajama.

He slowly moved her pants off, along with her panties.

He needed to taste her again.

His hands slowly moved her legs open, his head digging between her thighs.

He took a deep breath in, taking in her scent before licking her slightly, enough to have the taste on his tongue.

He had to bite back a moan as he pulled back slightly.

It had been so long since the last time he ate her out.

He’ll make sure he’ll have all the time in the world in the future.

What took him off guard, was her foot hitting his face at full force.

But still too weak.

He chuckled as he stumbled back. He stood up and looked down at her.

“I remember your brother teaching you to fight. He obviously failed, you wouldn’t scratch a man, baby.”

“Don’t call me like that, you bastard!” She shouted.

So feisty, just woken up.

“At least my brother taught me how to fight. And don’t you dare speak of him again!” She said as she tried to say up, but she quickly became aware of the handcuffs.

“You like those, baby?” He asked as he stood at the edge of the bed, nodding towards the handcuffs. “You know which one are those?” He smiled down at her. “The same one they used to handcuff me when you turned me in.” He sighed as he yanked the sheets completely off the bed.

“And for the record. I didn’t teach you how to fight, because you didn’t need to with me. I would have never let anything happen to you. I’m not letting anything happen to you.” He specified as he looked at her trying to get free of the handcuffs.

“I did this all for you. For us.” He said as he grabbed her ankles, her eyes snapping back at him. “We can be together now.”

“You killed my brother!” She screamed, trying to kick him again, but he simply chuckled, pinning her ankles down on the mattress.

“He spreaded us apart. He pointed a gun at my head.” He hissed.

“He never shooted!” She growled back. “He never would have!”

“And see what that brought you.” He moved her ankles apart. “You’re alone. Your business is shattered, I took it.” He said as he started tying one ankle to the foot of the bed.

“No, no!” She tried to get away, but it was useless.

“Why do you think you still have your money, baby?” He asked as he moved to tie the other ankle.

“Why do you think you’ve been spared by the destruction of your family business?”

“Fuck you. You psycho-“ She gritted her teeth as she found herself unable to move.

“Now now, no need for insults.” He crawled on top of her. “After all… I’m here to collect.” He grinned down at her. “You’re my war prize.”

“I’m not your anything.” She growled, but he didn’t even listen.

“We’re going to move away.” He said as he lifted her shirt, despite her trying to stop him by squirming harder.

He grabbed a handful of her soft boob, and leaned down to suck her nipple, his leg sliding between hers, his thigh pressing against her clit.

“Keep squirming.” He smiled against her, her movements making her grind against his thigh. She tugged at the handcuffs as she tried to lower her hands.

“You-“ She tugged again. “Killed-“ Again. “My brother!” She yelled as she started to cry. “You had no right! No right! He loved me!”

“Not as much as I do.” He said as he moved his hand between her legs, strolling her clit. “I might hate you for calling the police on me-“ He looked down at her cunt, then back up at her face, the tears running down the sides of her face. “But you are my woman. No one loves you more than I do.” He pulled his fingers back from her and pulled off a knife from the back of his pants and twisted easily in his hand.

He straddled her and pointed the knife to her throat.

“I would let this world burn for you. If you’d told me you don’t want to be on this earth anymore, I’d use all my power to find another planet to live on.” He leaned down, his face inches from hers. “And we’d repopulate it.”

“You’re crazy.” She said, her eyes filled with tears as she pressed her head against the pillow to get as far from the knife as possible. He licked the handle.

“About you, baby.” He turned the knife in his hand, the handle pressing against her skin, the blade against the skin of his hand. “You can ask me anything. Anything. I will give that to you.” He moved the handle down her body. “You just…” He moved the handle inside her, looking at her eyes widening at the intrusion. “… stay with me baby.” 

She looked away, turning her head to the side as Aemond started to move the knife slowly, caressing her inside walls with the rough material.

“Stop -“ She sobbed as she closed her eyes. She hated how her body was betraying her, feeling pleasure out of something so sick and wrong. “Stop, just stop.”

“You feel that too, uh?” He kept looking at her. “You feel this is right. That we belong together.”

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, fighting back sobs and the confusing mix of pain and pleasure coursing through her. "No, no, Aemond!" She whispered hoarsely, her voice shaking. "This is torture.” She said, desperate, hoping to at least gain his pity.

Aemond chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "Torture? Is that what you call this?" He rocked the knife handle inside her gently, the crude motion stimulating her sensitive flesh. "Or perhaps...enlightenment?"

Her eyes flew open, wide with horror and revulsion. "Shut up!" She spat, struggling futilely against the restraints. "You're insane, Aemond. Fucking insane!"

Aemond smirked, enjoying the sight of her distress.

"Maybe I am." He admitted, his tone casual. "But doesn't that make what I'm doing even more brilliant? I'm rewriting reality for us both."

He began to thrust the handle deeper, faster, each stroke hitting that spot within her that made her toes curl as the blade started to cut his hand, but he didn’t seem to care. "You can deny it all you want, but your body knows the truth. It craves mine as much as I crave yours."

Her breath hitched, her hips bucking involuntarily against the handle. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the blood from her bitten lip. "Please..." She whimpered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. "Stop, don’t do this to me..."

Despite her protests, she couldn't ignore the traitorous sensations building within her. The knife handle's coarse texture rubbing against her inner walls, the pressure and friction igniting a fire that spread through her core. 

She hated it, she hated the feeling of nostalgia, of happiness of having back at least part of her past, even in a maddening and sickening way.

Her thighs clenched, a moan escaping her lips before she could bite it back.

"See?" Aemond purred, his voice a seductive whisper. "Your body tells the truth, even if your mouth lies. You want this, baby. You need me."

Her gaze snapped to him, her eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and shame.

"You killed my brother!" She yelled again, hoping to get control of her body back with her

Aemond raised an eyebrow at her accusation, his expression unreadable. "Your brother was weak." He stated flatly. "He got in the way of my plans, and he paid the price."

The knife handle continued its relentless rhythm, each stroke pushing her closer to the edge. Aemond's free hand reached up to grip her chin, forcing her to meet his piercing gaze.

"You can hate me all you want, baby."

He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust, the blade scraping against her cervix.

Her vision blurred, her world narrowing to the searing pain and the overwhelming urge to surrender.

"Stop fighting it." Aemond commanded, his voice low and commanding. "Let go and accept that we are not separating again."

"I hate you." She groaned as her body arched from the bed. "I will never love you again."

Aemond smiled, a cold, calculated smile devoid of warmth or humanity. "You’re so pretty when you’re in denial, baby."

He increased the pace of the handle, driving it into her with brutal force. She screamed, her nails digging into the sheets as she struggled against the restraints. But Aemond held fast, his grip unyielding as he rode her through the agony and ecstasy.

"We are two sides of the same coin." He growled, his breath hot against her skin. "You cannot escape me, just as I cannot escape you. We are destined to be together."

With a final, vicious thrust, Aemond buried the handle to the hilt inside her.

Her scream cut off abruptly as the handle plunged deep, the sudden impact triggering a violent contraction within her. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over her, obliterating the pain and leaving her gasping for air.

For a moment, she hung suspended, lost in the overwhelming sensation. Then, with a strangled cry, she came undone, her body convulsing in a frenzy of release. The orgasm ripped through her like a tornado, making everything fade except pleasure.

As the aftershocks subsided, she lay limp and spent, her mind fogged by the intensity of what had just occurred. Through the haze, she felt Aemond withdraw the knife,  licked the knife handle and then discarded it carelessly on the floor with a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched her body twitch and spasm through the aftermath of her climax.

Rising from the bed, he towered over her prone form, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. "That's the power I hold over you." He murmured, his voice low and menacing. "The ability to reduce you to this - a broken, quivering mess, completely at my mercy." He smirked. "But you know I have much more power over you than just that. Even if you did manage to leave me, baby, please tell me.” He looked down at her. “Do you think you'll be able to live a normal life? Find someone new to love, have a life with him, a future, fuck him?” He laughed as he shook his head. “No, baby. I love you. And I’m not letting you go. Ever."

Her chest heaved with ragged breaths as she stared up at Aemond, her eyes glazed and unfocused. The echoes of her intense orgasm still resonated through her body, leaving her feeling raw and exposed.

She wanted to lash out, to spit venom at him for his cruel words and actions. But the strength had been drained from her, leaving only a hollow shell. All she could manage was a pitiful whine as he loomed over her.

"I-I won't..." She whispered. "I won't ever be yours, Aemond. Never." She hissed evilly, but he simply chuckled as he started to pull down his pants.

Aemond chuckled darkly, amused by her futile defiance. He reached down and grasped a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to expose the vulnerable column of her throat.

“We’ll see about that.” He whispered in her ear as he settled comfortably between her legs.

He lined up his throbbing cock with her entrance and thrusted to the hilt, stretching her tight core around his thick length.

“Take it, you feisty little bitch.” He smiled. “I still remember everything you like, you know that right?” He looked down at her, watching her discomfort as she struggled to adjust. “I know you. And I’ll make you feel so fucking good, baby.” He set a punishing pace, pounding into her relentlessly, moaning and closing his eye for a moment as he savoured the feeling of having her walls being stretched out from him again.

“Scream all you want. No one's coming to save you from my cock.” He reached around to fondle her clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in time with his brutal strokes.

She yelled, her tits kept bouncing against his chest with every thrust, but he reveled in her cries, the sound music to his ears as he rutted into her like an animal.

He picked up speed, his heavy balls slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust.

“You love this, don't you? Love being fucked raw by me.” He moaned as he felt her pussy clench. “You’ve always loved it, when I treated you like you could never break, unlike everyone else did.” He leaned down to bite and suck at her nipples, adding to her torment and pleasure. “And you still do. Just like you love me.”

She clenched her hands into fists, squeezing her eyes closed as the nostalgia of their past ate her alive.

"Fuck you – I don’t love you!" She gritted her teeth.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes as he drove into her again.

“Oh, keep telling yourself that, baby.” He grinned, a hint of pride in his voice. “Your tight little cunt is gripping me so fucking tight – it knows exactly what it's missing without a real man's cock.” He reached down to rub her clit harder, determined to make her come on his cock.

“Admit it, baby. You're loving every second of this.”

His hips snapped forward, hitting that sweet spot inside her that made her gasp and clench around him.

"I'll never come for you." She growled.

He chuckled, a dark and sinister sound that echoed through the room. “Oh, you will. You're so close, I can feel it.” He pinched her clit roughly, trying to force her to orgasm and pounded into her harder, faster, reveling in the feeling of her tight walls squeezing him.

“There’s no more escaping this. No more sending me away -” His voice was strained by pleasure, he wasn’t even trying to control his sounds, moaning shamelessly.

“I-I hate you –” She said as she felt herself treading on the edge of her orgasm. “I’ll never love you again, you’re trash  to me.”

He smirked at her defiant words, finding them only more arousing.

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But it’s not your body that betrays you.” He could feel her getting closer to the edge, her pussy fluttering around his shaft. “It’s your mind.” He thrusted especially hard, grinding against her cervix.

“Cum for me, baby. Now”. He demanded, his voice low and authoritative.

She shook her head defiantly, even as her body betrayed her, trembling on the brink of climax.

“Never... I won't…” Her words dissolved into a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. “F-fuck!”

Despite her best efforts, she could feel herself hurtling towards orgasm, her pussy clenching rhythmically around his pistoning cock. The stimulation to her clit combined with his commanding presence proved too much to resist.

“No – ” She cried out as she came undone, her vision whiting out from the intensity of her release.

Her inner walls spasmed almost violently around him, milking his shaft for all it was worth.

“Aem -” His name slipped past her lips unbidden as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

He groaned in satisfaction as he felt her pussy clamp down on him like a vice, her juices flooding his cock and dripping down his balls. “That's it, cum for me – ” His voice suddenly soft as he continued to pound into her through her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure and using her spasming walls to bring himself closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel amazing.” With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let out a guttural moan as he started to cum. He grunted, shooting thick ropes of hot seed deep into her womb as he filled her to the brim with his potent release.

They didn’t move for a while, catching their breaths after the intense encounter, but as soon as she bursted into tears Aemond immediately hugged her, freeing her wrists.

“Shhh, I’m here, baby -” He whispered in her ear as he caressed her hair, keeping her close, but she kept crying harder.

She couldn't help herself, even if he killed his brother, a part of her will always welcome Aemond, desperate for the old sense of stability that she had been seeking since it all went down.

Since her brother tore her away from Aemond.

Because that was the moment she felt like dying the most, and she felt the worst sister in the world for that.

So she cried, hoping those feelings would just flow out with her tears.

She hated Aemond, but not because he killed her brother, she hated him because he was still the love of her life, despite everything.

Because she tried to move on, desperately, she wanted to run away from her feelings for him, but every time she managed to find someone interesting she would feel guilty, she would feel like she was in the wrong place, like she was doing everything wrong, and she couldn’t fix it.

“I hate you.” She sobbed as she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

“I know.” He pressed his forehead against her temple. “I’ll fix it.”

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